I'm very grateful to the Br*xiters, because it's thanks to them that I've already got a stash of emergency orange juice to drink.

Also I bought a big bottle of whisky from the Tesco Express when I was out foraging earlier, that'll put a smile back on my face this evening.

For lunch just now I had some sliced chicken that's been in the freezer for ages, with hot pepper sauce, potatoes and peas. I don't normally buy packet sauces because they're so salty, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

We're trying these...

https://pastaevangelists.com

It feels very postmodern to order food online and have it delivered in a letterbox friendly pack. A la mode.

Some genuinely mad bargains out there in the champagne category. I'm enjoying some now with a couple of diazepam.

Those French language cooking and baking classes I sent my son to from the earliest of ages have proved to be a great investment - he's been making and freezing and otherwise storing delicious things today, in between online tutorials. My grandmother would've been very impressed - she always kept a cupboard full of empty jars for an unspecified emergency.

Although I'm rather shocked by how simple making soup and a couple of other dishes seemed to be - I could've done that.

He did teach me how to make pasteis de nata, which went down a storm as my contribution to a barbecue last summer. Several people refused to believe they were the work of my own fair hand and suggested I'd bought them.

I'm so bored I've had a drink of wine for with lunch.

It's a lot easier to get into the habit of afternoon drinking than it is to get out of it again. And I speak as one who knows

Only if you do it alone, all the time. If it's just a glass of wine with lunch, or an early finish at work which leads to an invasion of a suitable bar, then it's fine. I say that as a drunk who laces arsenic and sugar cocktails, so I recently learned.

Or, as the child of two alcoholics, one of whom died from it, I'd say I a) don't have a problem, b) am hyper aware of how one develops/on guard, and c) think the advice up there in my first two sentences is eminently sensible and civilised.

Enjoy your wine with a lovely lunch.

cosmictanya wrote:

Only if you do it alone, all the time.

That's how I spent 1989-1990

I'm trying to make a sort of butter chicken.

Fangirl Three wrote:

cosmictanya wrote:

Only if you do it alone, all the time.

That's how I spent 1989-1990

That's how I've spent the last 15 years.

Controversy rages on here at Tanya Towers about whether I should buy meringues or coke when I go to the supermarket. I only buy one extremely unhealthy thing on each visit, and my vote is for the meringues (because I had all eight of the last lot).

This ignited a storm of protest and recrimination which is nowhere near resolution. As a children/teens, my brother and I solved conflict like this by ringing random people in the telephone directory and asking them to choose between two options.

I meant to say yesterday, inspired by the shoppers on here, I incorporated a long walk via the nearest Coop for some purchases. Among those were a two pack of own brand syrup sponges and a small pot of custard. Very nice. I've just had the second one there, with the rest of the pot over the top of it.

Although nothing will ever beat my grandmothers homemade syrup sponge, with a scattering of raisins, that she used to make on freezing winter days as an after lunch pudding.

I can still remember the beautiful taste and texture of it, which nobody has ever replicated. A huge excitement when you arrived to find it waiting. To be had strictly only after a sensible healthy main, with nothing left over but perhaps a single pea (as a marker to demonstrate you weren't unattractively ravenous/destitute enough to be unable to justify being in a position to leave a symbolic something). 

The main itself only following a strictly supervised starter of various vitamins and minerals and supplements on a saucer, to be swallowed one by one with some freshly squeezed orange juice. The juice itself pressed in front of you while you told her about your morning, washed your hands, and placed your shoes, jacket, gloves, and scarf on top of a radiator so they'd be ready for putting on.

My grandfather would always come through to eat with us, signalling arrival by requesting a kiss and a fact of the day. After which the first of two (one at the end also) clean, ironed and folded monogrammed linen handkerchiefs, infused with Olbas oil, was presented to you for any nose blowing activity that children so often have need of.

All completed by one minute to 1pm at the latest...



Is there an official pudding here?

I'm drinking shandy like a soft southern jessie.

And I love it.

I've just had a simple yet satisfying dinner: bargain bin grapes hors d'oeuvre, followed by scrambled egg and chips.

I've got surplus eggs because I bought some in default of the Tesco Spanish(-style) omelettes I love, but then the omelettes reappeared in the shops.

Seeing as we've either not had coronavirus, or had a mild form, this household is doing its best to become diabetic instead. Arriving after midnight are three sugared crepes with lemon drizzle and raspberries, two tubs of pistachio ice cream, one tub of coconut ice cream, and two peach, papaya, mango, and raspberry ice smoothies.

I used up the eggs having a fine breakfast of scrambled eggs sandwiched between marmite toast (4 slices).

And now I've had a splendid lunch of premium Co-op pizza. A rectangular one.

With a baked potato.

Which wasn't rectangular or even cuboid.

I've just had six bags of crisps, five bars of Dairy Milk and a pint of terrible cider.