I started this post 10 days ago with a title and a blank page. Really, I was too gobsmacked to come up with a comment. I still am, I suppose, it's just that I want the quote plopped down in the blogosphere for posterity.
Flesh's friend F, who has just recently had a little baby boy, needed to conquer some fears and so came to mine for lunch. [Fears were of driving alone, the North Circular, just generally going out with a tiny yet utterly dependent companion, alone. Not lunch. Or my house.]
It was a pretty rubbish lunch, since the fridge was bare and the baby slept so well all morning I didn't have chance to go to the shop. True, I often consider nipping to the shop while she's asleep in the cot, and I regularly debate with myself whether or not I could ask littlest B next door to stop with her for 15 minutes, but as always, I did neither. I did, however, fret - though I consoled myself that lunch might be crap, but at least there was cake - then turned to Waitrose for inspiration.
Waitrose.com has a super recipe database, with a reasonable search engine. Terry had suggested soup, we had some tomatoes in the fridge, I found a Tuscan Tomato and Bean Soup recipe, so I made that. With no celery, and a couple of leftovers in the fridge to chuck in (I substituted half an aubergine! Ha!), it wasn't a faithful attempt, but the liquid/solid ratio was about right, so I was disappointed (truthfully? A bit embarrassed) that it turned out like weird stew. Walthamstow Tomato and Bean Stew, perhaps.
Still, F (who is pretty slight) powered through it, and surprised me (she's very polite/proper) by accepting seconds. I (not very polite/trouble being proper) articulated my surprise and the poor thing said she's suddenly, after 4 weeks of breastfeeding, discovered a huge appetite. She was so preoccupied with over-running house renovation at the end of her pregnancy that she lost weight, and has been preoccupied with his weight since he was born, and suddenly her body's shouted at her to wake up and damn well feed it. So she is. So I was v v pleased I had cake in. And extra specially pleased I could offer Pilsbury brownies at that.
And then she said it: "I don't really like chocolate". I nearly fell off my chair.
She got a piece of old parkin and a 2 day old jam tart.
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3 comments:
Why can't I write good stuff like this? You were to born blog Peggy.
You know, that's only the second compliment you've ever paid me... in coming up 15 years. The first: "You're good at accents."
You know, it's not just that she doesn't like chocolate - it gives her screaming migraines.
Yeah inspite, I agree - highly entertaining.
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