Thursday is shopping day. This is not something particularly exciting, you understand. It involves me driving my mother-in-law to Asda, and the two of us then spending an excrutiating one-and-a-half hours trying to fight our way through hoardes of exceptionally rude and stupid people armed only with a trolley each and our reserves of patient goodwill. Which soon run out. We come out gasping for a long drink, a fag, and a desire to be Anywhere But Here (TM).
These weekly Asda trips, though, are actually an improvement. We used to go to Tesco in Gateshead. Tesco in Gateshead is, in fact, a miniaturized model, accurate in every detail, of the seventh circle of hell. Thankfully, they're going to pull it down soon. Bring it on.
Anyway, despite being rather droopy and lacklustre this morning, I decided that I needed to get my plump and shapely ass back in the kitchen. So this afternoon, I enlisted the help of Dr Squirrel as my personal Kitchen Elf (TM) and set about having a good time with food.
It was nothing fancy - we merely made a "mur" (potato omelette with onion and parsley) and a simple salad of baby spinach, thick tomato slices, red onion and avocado, dripped with olive oil and balsamic vinegar (no, just the cheap stuff, I can't afford the good kind).
Despite the simplicity and indeed, near rusticness, of the meal we put together, it was very satisfying to be back in the kitchen doing my thing. The opportunity to cook and bake without treading on anyone's toes is actually one of the things I am most looking forward to about Dr Squirrel and I having a place of our own. He bought me a bread book for my birthday last week, and already I am fantasizing and plotting variations on various recipes contained therein.
Tomorrow, I'm going to make a spicy pumpkin loaf cake, inshallah. Watch this space. You might even get a picture. Hausfrau out.
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