Saturday 7 February 2009

Cooking is a waste of time

I have received complaints from some people that this blog does not actually contain any recipes. So, just for you, I have created (read: stolen from Delia) a recipe for Eggs Benedict. Yum.

"1 quantity Hollandaise Sauce
6 large, very fresh eggs
12 slices pancetta, grilled until crisp
3 English muffins, split in half horizontally
a little butter

Pre-heat the grill to its highest setting.
You will also need a grill pan and rack and a 10 x 14 inch (25.5 x 35 cm) baking tray.

Make the Hollandaise Sauce. Poach the eggs. When the pancetta is cooked, keep it on a warm plate while you lightly toast the split muffins on both sides. Now butter the muffins and place them on the baking tray, then top each half with two slices of pancetta. Put a poached egg on top of each muffin half and then spoon over the hollandaise, covering the egg (there should be a little over 1 tablespoon of sauce for each egg).

Now flash the Eggs Benedict under the grill for just 25-30 seconds, as close to the heat as possible, but don't take your eyes off them – they need to be tinged golden and no more. This should just glaze the surface of the hollandaise. Serve straight away on hot plates."



There? Are we done? Some lovely brunch for you.


Anyway, I'm still completely distressed that jolly Manchester is bright and sunny, while the rest of the country is bogged down in some eternal snowdrift. I am not usually so quick to wish away the sunshine but I can't help feeling a little left out. Perhaps I do not see the inherent problems with lavish amounts of white gold, perhaps I would think differently were I unable to visit the local Tescos to purchase my goods and sundries due to my doorway being covered by an inexorable wall of snow.

Perhaps. But until then I shall hurl complaints towards the skies, and indeed the rest of the country. This could all end in a vile case of sour grapes, however. Snow is underrated, you see. It is wet and soggy and looks like greasy mud when it is fading away under the heat of the sun.
Lucky bastards.


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