pumpkinstrokemarrow

A day or so ago, was amused by the sight of a green woodpecker jumping down a tree. A most ungainly activity which reminded me rather of my attempts, many years ago, at abseiling in mid Wales. Woodpeckers do it much better going up. And then yesterday, BH tells me that a couple of them were at it on the lawn, right outside the back extension window, which given that the back garden rises away from the house, means that she had a grand-stand view. Much billing and cooing and marching backwards and forwards. Hunting for ants together. Regular - and regularly consumated - courtship performance.

She had the leisure to observe this sort of thing as I had been elected cook of the day. To celebrate, I indulged in a some variations. First course was a very large chicken - which the three of us managed to eat less than half of and which had cost just under a fiver from Mr S.. About the same as a lamb chop from Cheam. So the first variation was the use of brazil nuts in the stuffing, cooked externally in a white enamel pie dish on account of gluten free requirements on the chicken itself. Not having hazel nuts very often we usually use walnuts. I had thought that brazil nuts would be too hard and smash into powder rather than lumps but they were OK, despite the loss of fun-factor arising from use of ready shelled rather than entire nuts. Shelling your own better. Stuffing otherwise normal with bread crumbs, onion, celery, black pepper (bashed not ground) and egg. Covered with a few rashers of bacon to keep it damp. Plus a few knobs of dripping. Never much liked that fancy stuff involving meat or chestnuts.

Second variation was cooking a second course, something I do not recall having done for a very long time. Opted for the straightforward treacle tart, which must be about as calorific as Mars Bars. 6 ounces of short crust pastry, made with lard and self raising flour - despite BH's claim that one only used plain flour for such things. Whitworth's ancient cookbook ruled on this occasion; the claim that it better to follow the recipe when in unfamiliar territory being convenient on this occasion. Filling made with two ounces of whole loaf bread crumbs (admitting to use of blender to speed up the crumbing process, slow when we are talking whole loaf otherwise), one ounce of porriage and a lot of golden syrup. Despite which, still a rather stiff mixture to spoon into the tart base. Wound up with a slightly more rough cast finish than that achieved by the BH. Loosened up with a little custard made from a tin called Bird and which involved another dollop of sugar. Concession to slimming took the form of semi skimmed milk. The two of us allowed gluten managed two thirds of it at the first sitting. FIL had something else.

DT now into day 19 of the affair of the expenses, the whole business having occupied a huge number of pages. Fair enough, I suppose. If the team is on expenses it is not on man bite dog. Or man push wannabe but faint-hearted suicide off bridge. I wonder what it has done for its circulation? In the meantime, I am starting to think that some good might have been done by said right wing rag. Having taken their scalp as a consolation prize, MPs will be culled and the remainder might be prompted to give some thought as to their calling and to the behaviour proper to it. Maybe the House of Commons will actually start to do something other than preen itself and playing poodle - or perhaps fawn - to the executive?