Hot vegetables

I think I have mentioned that our taxi dietary habits have been considerably improved by the purchase of two small wide-necked flasks in which we can provide ourselves with hot food.

This is a magnificent asset in many ways, not least that it has meant that suddenly there is a function for vegetables in our lives. Most vegetables are rubbish on sandwiches or on the top of pizza, there is a reason that sweet potato and courgette pizza has never made it onto the best seller list, likewise that Subway does not do runner bean and turnip baguettes. In order for vegetables to have any culinary appeal whatsoever you have got to do things like fry them in butter and fresh ginger, or bake them in a sauce of chopped tomatoes with pepper and add a swirl of garlic yoghurt.

One of my projects for the day was to take the vegetables that have been damply mouldering in the fridge ever since I bought them in a moment of health-conscious enthusiasm some time ago, and turn them into a risotto. I have never made risotto before, but anything that Jamie Oliver can do can’t be all that difficult.

Obviously vegetables on their own are not very exciting, so I unearthed some white snowy bacon from underneath all of the pasta and burgers in the freezer, just to make sure that there was a taste as well as a sense of virtue. I also chucked in some unpasteurised Brie that we had accidentally left in the fridge for rather too long, and which was beginning to surprise us with its own special scent every time we opened the door.

You can put pretty much anything in risotto, so I used the opportunity to get rid of lots of things that might otherwise have shamed me as a wasteful squandering capitalist consumer, so there was half a pint of cream, and some celery, and some pecan nuts whose sell-by-date appeared to have passed some time last year. I mixed in lots of butter, and nutmeg, and garlic, on the basic cooking principle that the way to get a good result is to put lots in of the things that you like best. I sloshed a couple of glasses of French red in for good measure, and left the resulting concoction to simmer slowly on the stove for a while.

Also related to the new flasks was the issue that Mark had raised, which was a complaint that he did not have a table napkin, and would like one to take to work.

We have never owned table napkins, because I have always subscribed to the lazy idea that you get a clean one down out of a plastic wrapper every time and then throw it away at the conclusion of the meal. This is not entirely wasteful squandering capitalist consumerism because they can then be recycled as stuff for lighting the fire in an emergency.

The point being that whether it is wasteful squandering or not, it is expensive if you are going to do it every night, so you finish up in a situation where you just save them for special occasions and put up with occasional yoghurt on your trousers in between times.

When I am at home I am usually wearing a large apron anyway, but I agreed with Mark that it was entirely uncivilised behaviour and decided that I would make some table napkins.

We had a splendid white tablecloth that Mark bought to use when he was working in Aberdeen but which has never quite made it into the cycle of domestic tablecloths at home: so I cut it up.

I had to ponder for a while how big I ought to make napkins. In the end it occurred to me to wonder if there was a standard size, and it turns out that indeed there is. I have learned something new today about table napkins and shall share it with you in case you are as interested as I was, never let it be said that these pages do not contain very useful domestic hints:

Formal, Multiple Course, Meals – large napkins (22 – 26 inches square);
Buffet Service – medium to large napkins (18 to 24 inches square or 12 x 22 inches);
Informal Dinners – medium napkins (18 to 20 inches square);
Luncheons – smaller napkins (14 to 16 inches square);
Tea – small napkins (12 inches square); and
Cocktails – very small napkins (9 inches square, 4 x 6 inches, or 6 x 8 inches).

You will notice that this handy information is short in detail about the appropriate napkin size for picnics in a taxi at night, so in the end I decided I would go for the largest in case ever I needed to borrow them to impress somebody who was being invited for dinner. I thought I would risk somebody being invited for cocktails thinking I was a clueless oik, either that or I could probably manufacture something with some kitchen roll and scissors.

So tonight we went to work fully equipped with dinner napkins and dinner, how very upmarket we have become.

I am feeling pleased with our world.