Does my bum look big in this?

It has been said many times by many people that your body is a temple and mine is certainly no exception. It is dedicated to Bacchus and boy, have I been been busy worshipping for the last two decades!! Over recent months I have been attempting to lose some of my excess baggage. I have had many half arsed attempts in the past, but never with any results, so this time I decided to try to put some effort into it, a concept that would make my old school teachers howl with mirth, and even if I say so myself, the result has been nigh on miraculous, having lost 20% of my weight in five months.

As great as it sounds and indeed has made a real difference, there is one very major downside; I no longer fit in any of my clothes. I am considering giving my rugby tops to an aid agency to use as shelter for entire communities of displaced people and my trousers will be most adequate for civil engineering tunnelling projects! Working near Piccadilly, I walk past some fantastic shops every day so, being the season of the New Year sale, I decided I would look for a couple of new pairs of trousers and to cut a long story short I came away with three pairs......and a jacket......and a coat!!! Surely after such an WAG inspired shopping spree, no one can say I am not in touch with my feminine side! So in touch, that I finally understand why ladies say a new outfit makes them feel like a million dollars, it really is true. And, probably more worrying than anything else, I found myself asking the age old question that causes all men to groan and cringe, "does my bum look big in this!" I had gone into the shop feeling mildly excited that I was at last looking for new trousers, although when weighed against the inevitable cost, the edge was slightly taken off. However, when I left, I  was positively strutting, like a young John Travolta, head held high, chest out, laughing off the cost, after all, I had not spent anywhere close to the million dollars that I now look and feel like!!

I went to a lunch to celebrate a family birthday the next day and I can honestly say not even Zebedee has a step as springy as mine. If my life was a nature programme David Attenborough would be whispering excitedly that this devilishly handsome bird of paradise would be getting it on tonight! Lunch was a great mix of new and old friends and too much good food, the diet having been shoved into a drawer for the day. I finished off with a wonderful marmalade bread and butter pudding, hell for the waist, heaven for the taste buds! Surely there is nothing in life as satisfying as a good bread and butter pudding. Putting it very simply it is a "wrap me up in a duvet and spoon feed me" comfort food favourite.

There are many takes on the humble B and B, some are total disasters whose recipes should be burnt and never spoken of again, such as tropical fruit B and B once experienced whilst working in Antigua. However some do truly elevate it from the school food of youth to a sophisticated dinner party favourite. I have tried a number of variations, and this one is very good, particularly at Easter, however it is a good change from the norm at any other time of the year.

1.    Take a fistful of sultanas, two if you are addicted like me, put them in a bowl, cover with milk and microwave on full until fairly warm. This makes them as plump as a new cushion and rather than being chewy, they become little pockets of sweet nectar bursting in every mouthful. Drain them but keep the milk for the custard mix, it adds a certain depth of character lacking from some B and B puddings. If you are doing this for an adults only meal, you can put half the sultanas in Grand Marnier or brandy. Don't use the alcohol for the custard as it will curdle during cooking, besides the cook needs a treat when in the kitchen! If you don't have a microwave or are very organised, soak the fruit over night.

2.    Mix 300ml of milk, including the sultana milk, and 300ml of double cream with 35g of sugar and heat to dissolve the sugar. Take off the heat and allow to cool. I always add some orange zest before heating, however it is completely up to you and your personal taste.

3.    Split one Hot Cross bun per person or more if you want left overs for the next day, slather generously with butter and apricot jam and put back together.

4.    Butter an oven proof dish just big enough to hold all the buns, sprinkle with two thirds of the fruit, place the buns on top, pour on the custard and the rest of the fruit. If you have time you should let this sit for at least two hours to let the buns soak up the mix. Keep pushing the buns down into the custard mix as they have a tendency to float.

5.    When ready to cook, sprinkle the top with a couple of teaspoons of caster or granulated sugar depending on your penchant for crunchiness and pop in the oven for an hour. Check after half an hour and put foil on the top if the pudding is catching. Once cooked, and this may take longer than an hour, serve with lashings of double cream and a nice pudding wine. Make sure the children are tied up somewhere, gagged, so as not to disturb the almost religious experience you will no doubt have! Bacchus would be proud!

I will leave you with this thought from Virginia Woolf, "One cannot think well, love well, sleep well unless one has dined well." Enjoy the pud.

P. S. As I know you are all wondering and won't relax until you know, no my bottom doesn't look big in my new trousers. It is just like Mary Poppins, practically perfect in every way!!

The Newbie!

This is an interesting position to be in, I have only recently discovered blogs. I always thought blogs were something other people did, certainly no one I know would blog, surely. It all seemed a bit seedy, a bit like walking through Soho, knowing what the shops sell, but never crossing the threshold for fear of what might lurk within! Now for a moment, imagine walking through the door and into the shop and discovering that, yes, there is a top shelf, very small and very high, but all the rest is a veritable smorgasbord of interesting and eye boggling stuff, the sort of stuff that you would take to your parents for Sunday lunch and share with them! So, imagine my surprise when I discovered rather a lot of very good blogs, including one by a very old friend, sorry, a friend of long standing, which reduces me to tears of laughter every time she blogs.

I have always enjoyed Facebook, whether to rant about the general standards of those things that wind me up or to share good news and amusing stories, either my own, but more often those of other people. It was suggested that my posts might suit a blog, so with the bravado and impetuosity of naivety, here we are, walking into uncharted territory, marching through the mist of uncertainty, or is it the gun smoke of impending doom, with no idea whether or not someone else may be out there. I would like to think so, so with nothing to lose but my dignity, here goes.

I should start by telling you a bit about myself. I am nearing a landmark birthday, have a fantastic wife, two fantastic children, one of each, who are still small and each day brings joys and challenges in equal measure! No pets yet, although my daughter is desperate, so maybe soon the pitter patter of tiny paws? I have worked in hotels and catering establishments for over twenty years, in England, Australia and the Caribbean, so I will always try to turn conversations to cooking and food. I have a view on most things, some informed, but mostly just off the cuff thoughts. I am also on a diet, so in a way this blog is a chance to stuff my face with all the food I have so badly missed in the last 5 months, without the weight gain!!

The kitchen is where I find my inner gourmand, the Monsieur Creosote that has has been dwelling inside me for most of my life. I have had the joy of working in quality hotels, eating the finest foods and drinking some of the best wines known to man. I am a front of house man, however food has always been a great passion, right from the shopping to the devouring of the final dish, whatever it may be, and all the stages in between.

My wife is always amazed when I take myself off to the supermarket at 6.30 on a Saturday morning. It is the one time of day when a 24 hour a day shop has some form of order and calm. The nocturnal shelf stackers are sweeping up the carnage from the aisles and hurrying through the checkouts, the day shift stumbles in, skipping over the newspapers that sleepy eyes don't really see, the bakery is all calm and exuding the sort of smells that for just one moment transport you back to your first taste of real French bread in a real French boulangerie. It is a surreal time, when the unimaginable happens, you stop and talk to fellow shoppers, it is always the same faces, at the same time. Admittedly the conversations aren't show stoppers, however we are all willing, and after seeing each other every Saturday for a while, we trust each other, after all, the criminals who have been out robbing us blind all night are safely in bed! I could never imagine having a conversation with anyone, well not a polite one, after 9.00am, no-one has a care for others, with the "That's my cabbage, I saw it first!" mentality that has driven me from daylight shopping! The shelves are all neat and tidy, there are never more than two trollies in an aisle, the rastafarian cleaner pushing his floor sweeper around is always smiling, a reassuring glint reflecting off his gold tooth and the checkout staff actually say good morning and please and thank you when you hand over your hard earned cash! Now that never happens after 9.00am! I love it all! Sometimes the children join me, although recently Peppa Pig and Mike the Knight are more attractive than shopping! Maybe I should remind them about the full English at the end of the checkouts!

There we go, first post finished, the start of something that hopefully might bring a smile or two and be a worthy companion to a cup of tea and chocolate biscuit!!