Greens*
Sometimes I think that posting anything here on a Sunday is a triumph of hope over experience.
Sundays are traditionally days for doing nothing at all. They start late (well, Radio 4 insists on being all religious until 9 in the morning, so what's the point of even waking up before then?), and end well before normal bedtime with the vaguely hopeful idea that early to sleep means early to rise. I don't have to be in the office at half eight tomorrow, but in theory the Horse Doctor does.
Early to bed means early to dine, it being a bad idea to eat less than three hours before sleeping (unless you like those dreams, of course.) And so this evening I prepared a light evening meal - Lemon fried chicken with a Caesar salad. When I can be bothered, this is something of a signature dish - I like to brush the bread with garlic before making the croutons, and make the dressing fresh, rather than using something bought from a shop. This evening some corners were cut and the result was a bit disappointing.
Even so, it's something of a triumph of hope over experience that I make it at all. The Horse Doctor, being a good Ayrshire lass, is deeply suspicious of anything green or vegetable. If it's not meat, it must be potatoes (or neeps, that strange Scottish delicacy that anywhere else is considered animal feed.) Salads are viewed with a contempt worthy of a sixteenth century Inquisitor.
Unless, of course, they are slathered in tonnes of fat. And here the Caesar salad comes into its own. Take all the goodness of crisp leaves, the healthiest of health foods, and smother it with oil, whisked up with egg yolks. Add parmesan cheese, bread fried in yet more oil, anchovies swimming in oil. Some oil, and If you're worried that you might be taking the diet too seriously you can always add some more oil. Not forgetting the oil, of course.
Adding a bit of chicken (fried in oil), crisped up in the flame from adding lemon juice to a very hot frying pan, just makes the whole meal more of an occasion. Mmmm.
I'd eat it more often, but the Horse Doctor gets suspicious if too much green appears on her plate over the course of a week.
* look - it's Sunday night and I really can't be arsed with writing something sensible. This is the best my addled brain can come up with, OK? And it's anchored in truth, as all the best lies are.
Sundays are traditionally days for doing nothing at all. They start late (well, Radio 4 insists on being all religious until 9 in the morning, so what's the point of even waking up before then?), and end well before normal bedtime with the vaguely hopeful idea that early to sleep means early to rise. I don't have to be in the office at half eight tomorrow, but in theory the Horse Doctor does.
Early to bed means early to dine, it being a bad idea to eat less than three hours before sleeping (unless you like those dreams, of course.) And so this evening I prepared a light evening meal - Lemon fried chicken with a Caesar salad. When I can be bothered, this is something of a signature dish - I like to brush the bread with garlic before making the croutons, and make the dressing fresh, rather than using something bought from a shop. This evening some corners were cut and the result was a bit disappointing.
Even so, it's something of a triumph of hope over experience that I make it at all. The Horse Doctor, being a good Ayrshire lass, is deeply suspicious of anything green or vegetable. If it's not meat, it must be potatoes (or neeps, that strange Scottish delicacy that anywhere else is considered animal feed.) Salads are viewed with a contempt worthy of a sixteenth century Inquisitor.
Unless, of course, they are slathered in tonnes of fat. And here the Caesar salad comes into its own. Take all the goodness of crisp leaves, the healthiest of health foods, and smother it with oil, whisked up with egg yolks. Add parmesan cheese, bread fried in yet more oil, anchovies swimming in oil. Some oil, and If you're worried that you might be taking the diet too seriously you can always add some more oil. Not forgetting the oil, of course.
Adding a bit of chicken (fried in oil), crisped up in the flame from adding lemon juice to a very hot frying pan, just makes the whole meal more of an occasion. Mmmm.
I'd eat it more often, but the Horse Doctor gets suspicious if too much green appears on her plate over the course of a week.
* look - it's Sunday night and I really can't be arsed with writing something sensible. This is the best my addled brain can come up with, OK? And it's anchored in truth, as all the best lies are.
Comments
Which was very nice to come home to.
And no new post.
Damn.