Another day of taxis.
Fortunately the children were saved from a dull day by the timely arrival of Number One Son-In-Law who collected Oliver and Ritalin Boy and a stack of Nerf guns and disappeared to the park to play Armies. I was so very pleased and grateful that I wholeheartedly forgave him for leaving toast crumbs in the butter, and Mark and I were able to breathe a sigh of relief and slope off to our well-worn driving seats.
We finished late again last night, Mark got a run out to Kendal at about half past three, so I took the dog for a walk whilst I was waiting for him to get back. This turned into a surprising experience because when I was halfway round the Library Gardens an unexpected Chinese man emerged from behind a tree, which made me jump, but he was only taking his dog for a late night emptying, like me.
He was retired, it turned out, but he had been helping his grandsons cater for the Bank Holiday rush at the Magic Wok, and had only just found time to take the dog out, which was a small, friendly, greying terrier, irresistibly like his owner. We exchanged tired-but-happy Bank Holiday stories and in the end I only got home a couple of minutes before Mark did, with just enough time to pop round to the unoccupied half-renovated house up the road and steal some of the magnificent lilac blossoms that I have been coveting for ages from their neglected shrub.
They smell glorious, and were lovely to come downstairs to this morning. I was pleased about this because the plan for the day was that we worked in the taxis until teatime and then go home to do cooking and ironing things ready for having visitors tomorrow.
In consequence of this I was ridiculously excited and twitchy all day and even taking people to the station at yes-it’s-expensive-it’s-bank-holiday fares failed to capture my interest, because I was busy planning and making lists and having cooking inspirations.
They are vegetarians, which is brilliantly interesting to cook for, because of course I am usually idle and just use meat to give flavour to things, which is not especially challenging. When people are vegetarians you have got to think carefully to make food splendid. I was dying to try out some ideas, so in the end I stopped working at teatime and left Mark to it, and dashed home to put my big apron on and play contentedly in the kitchen. I spent half an hour complaining at the children who were playing football in the living room and who had made a mess, and didn’t care, and then I made some walnut and mushroom pate which I thought we could have as a starter.
This worked surprisingly well, but is a bit lighter and fluffier than it should be and I am considering chucking some cheese in it to weigh it down a bit. I made raspberry mousse as well, because it needs a long time to set. A purist might note that I chucked some leftover strawberries in with the raspberries because they were starting to look sad in the fridge, but I don’t suppose anybody will notice as it seems to have turned out all right: and now I keep going back and poking it anxiously to see if it has set yet, which of course it hasn’t.
I have made some mayonnaise, and some biscuits, and a chocolate cake which I will stuff full of cream tomorrow, and I am going to do a Turkish dish called Menemen as a main course. You fry loads of vegetables and then add tomatoes and cream and I usually chuck wine in as well, although the Turks don’t because they are Muslims, and garlic and pepper and dill and cumin and spices, and then when it is simmering nicely you grate cheese on the top and break some eggs on to it, and then put the lid on and steam it all gently for ages.
You serve it up with hot bread and rice, and it is splendid, and Mark likes it very much, I used to put courgettes in it, but I leave them out these days when he is going to eat it because they give him wind. I will have to go shopping tomorrow, for some salad, and we need cheese and crackers. Last time we had guests we bought some beetroot crisps to have with the cheese and crackers, but then we forgot to get them out and Mark ate them in the taxi on Friday night. I don’t much like beetroot crisps, for reasons I have explained elsewhere.
I have had such a happy time. Oliver hovered around a bit licking bowls out, and Lucy chopped up some carrots, and they thought that the only vegetables they would find acceptable were peas, so they had better have chicken nuggets again.
Of course it will be fine, because actually we will all just eat loads and drink far too much and have a nice time, and because they are my friends they won’t care anyway, and really what we want to do is be together: but it is so nice to do good food and lovely flowers and a bedroom without peeling wallpaper.
It is going to be a busy day tomorrow.
