Thursday
A meeting after college means limited time in the kitchen. There is some chicken stock and a few bits and pieces so I go for a Tom Yam Gai style-soup.
My mind is a bit preoccupied with work while I’m preparing the soup and I throw things in at random, pour it over the noodles, and sit down in front of telly to tuck in. I should have paid more attention to what I was doing because the soup presses all the right buttons – and is as good as the Tom Yam Gai I had at Ken Hom’s place in January. Its Zen cooking I guess…
Friday
A moderately successful presentation and quick meeting, then I’m on the Pendolino down to London fairly earlyish. As I’m a bit skint at the moment I’m hoping for a fairly frugal weekend in Islington.
Mrs Jiffler and I pop over to Waitrose (yeah, they’re posh on the Holloway Road) and pick up a rotisserie chicken, a bag of salad and a packet of garlic bread. I spot some massive Mediterranean tomatoes and Mrs Jiffler agrees we can have one as long as it comes with mozzarella. This is about as pre-prepared as I get with food without hyperventilating, and as it turns out the chicken is lovely – heavily flavoured with rosemary and thyme, the flesh melts in the mouth. Well done Waitrose.
We make a quick stock to reaffirm some of our DIY credentials, and Mrs Jiffler gets busy making a fridge-cook tiffin from digestive biscuits, chocolate, raisins, honey and syrup… mmm.
A meeting after college means limited time in the kitchen. There is some chicken stock and a few bits and pieces so I go for a Tom Yam Gai style-soup.
My mind is a bit preoccupied with work while I’m preparing the soup and I throw things in at random, pour it over the noodles, and sit down in front of telly to tuck in. I should have paid more attention to what I was doing because the soup presses all the right buttons – and is as good as the Tom Yam Gai I had at Ken Hom’s place in January. Its Zen cooking I guess…
Friday
A moderately successful presentation and quick meeting, then I’m on the Pendolino down to London fairly earlyish. As I’m a bit skint at the moment I’m hoping for a fairly frugal weekend in Islington.
Mrs Jiffler and I pop over to Waitrose (yeah, they’re posh on the Holloway Road) and pick up a rotisserie chicken, a bag of salad and a packet of garlic bread. I spot some massive Mediterranean tomatoes and Mrs Jiffler agrees we can have one as long as it comes with mozzarella. This is about as pre-prepared as I get with food without hyperventilating, and as it turns out the chicken is lovely – heavily flavoured with rosemary and thyme, the flesh melts in the mouth. Well done Waitrose.
We make a quick stock to reaffirm some of our DIY credentials, and Mrs Jiffler gets busy making a fridge-cook tiffin from digestive biscuits, chocolate, raisins, honey and syrup… mmm.
No comments:
Post a Comment