The pudding club

If I live long enough to write an epitaph on Mr N`s gravestone it shall be thus " What`s for afters?" He is the eternal naughty school boy in my eyes always wanting some more , woe betide anyone who might offer him a piece of fruit or a yoghurt- don`t be bloody stupid! It is not enough that I have taught all day made him homemade soup and a roast, unless there is something lovely and gooey,custardy or squirty for afters I have failed to be a good wife. It matters not if I have drawn him a luxurious bubble bath and have slipped in there myself rubber ducky and sponge in one hand bath oil int`other unless Matty can smell the Sticky toffee all prospects of him scrubbing my back are scratched!
I know I am mean about old Ebenezer Neal in this blog and he`s not such a troll really, waiting for James,Jem and Lily Goats gruff to coming trip trapping over his bridge infact he is the bridge that enables us all to go on to greener pastures to be the best we can be. He is a brilliant Daddy , encouraging, ambitious, tenacious and kind. The ping pong and football years are whizzing past and he never misses a match or a training session often appearing last minute on two wheels from some very important cabinet meeting to get to the really important business of the day- his family. It was the same at my graduation , he had just been to a final law exam and so as I walked out of the great hall he was there chaining up his bike blonde hair and big grin flashing in the sunshine. He is my sunshine- masquerading sometimes as a big black cloud but once he is home, gets his suit off and has his pudding he is my lovely Matty again and I don`t begrudge him a little sweetness as being a grownup and a parent can be rather bitter at times.
So what`s for afters I wonder.Hopefully a good few more years of ping pong, naked decorating and lots more sweet times together.

Pannetonne pudding

I got a big panettonne for Christmas and noone wanted it but then...
I Sliced and buttered it. Then you...
Line a pudding dish with it. Mix a carton of single cream, 2 eggs and  a tablespoon of sugar together and pour over it. Bake in a medium oven until set, serve with clotted cream or squirty then get the bath on for your happy husband-delicious! Happiness rests on such little things.

Christmas in the workhouse.

I am still hopelessly wrapping parcels and am feeling a bit of a one woman band. Mr N is snoozing on the sofa  wearing a cockeyed santa hat and my pyjamas with match of the day in the background and a log fire in the grate. Lily and Jemima are little sleeping beauties in our bed as they fell asleep watching Christmas movies there. Jimmy is snuggled in his Man utd. pyjamas with visions of touch screen iphones dancing in his head.We had our favourite meal tonight shepherds pie and Champagne with toffee pecan pavlova for pud- no wonder the little piggies are all asleep.
I know it is Christmas but really everyday should be a special one. You cannot gift wrap a loving family,a child`s first steps or a winning goal. This year has dealt a fair deal of sadness with the loss of some much loved ones, into everyones lives a little rain must fall.But some days have seemed unbearable.Through the seasons of tears and laughter I have always had hope that next year will be a better one for us all. It is the only way to conduct ones life...counteract the bad days with some glorious ones.Birthdays, fridays, Wedding days, Christmas day -all a bloody good excuse to share fabulous food and drink with those that we truly care about. So I don`t mind this mammoth wrap up really (I may have to buy some more Baileys before the big day though!)as it is necessary to set the scene for the celebrations. When the phones are switched off and  senses are switched on and we can revel in all the Joy , are allowed to shed a little tear and raise a glass to absent friends and Nannas. I still have  Christmas cards from both of my late Grandmothers and I`m not ashamed to admit that I kiss the names that they signed. I don`t put flowers on their graves for they aren`t there- not at Christmas. You get eternal life through your children you see, I see the light that they ignited in my own children`s eyes when they rip open all their presents on Christmas morning.
So Baileys in hand I better get back to the wrapping...this life is such a beautiful gift.
Happy Christmas O gorgeous ones.xxx

Shepherds pie and Champagne.
1onion
1 1/2 lbs steak mince
1 stick celery
1 carrot
2 cloves garlic
1 pint beef stock
1 glass dry cider
mixed herbs
Potatoes
butter
warm milk
1tbs condensed milk

Fry the onion,garlic,celery and carrot in a little olive oil and butter.Add the mince and cook until brown, Add the herbs,stock and cider and reduce until a yummy gravy forms. boil the potatoes in a little seasalt until soft. Mash with plenty of butter, s&p, a little warm milk and a spoon of condensed milk- sounds mad but tastes divine.
Top the mince with the potatoes and put a little butter on the top and warm through in a medium oven.
Eat by the fire with no decorum and a big glass of champagne(there`s happiness in each one of those bubbles!)
Cheers to my angel Nannas who are on the top of my Christmas tree all year round.

Time to sparkle and shine.

I live with Ebeneezer Neal . This year however "NO HUMBUGGERS ARE ALLOWED!"Recently Jemima saw Father Christmas and the look of awe and wonder and pure Joy on her face was priceless. If only we could bottle the Christmas spirit and get drunk on it. But listen, it`s ours for the taking and it`s free. Give in to the spirit of Christmas and believe. Believe in Father Christmas and little Christmas miracles.The emphasis for the next month should not only be upon giving and getting,but forgiving and forgetting. Mend broken friendships and revel in the abundant marvellousness of it all.
I have witnessed many Nativity plays with scrapping shepherds,wayward sheep and nose picking angels!But when we find that special baby in the manger and allow ourselves to see life through the eyes of the child it is then that we truly shine and life can be magical once more.
Christmas is like a huge magnifying glass. If we are lonely or struggling with loss the ghosts of Christmas` past seem tenfold. If we are happy and loved that too is magnified and illuminates the Winter nights with fairydust.
Don`t let this Divine Spirit pass you by.The light it shines brings us all together again moth like to it`s cheery glow.We see the World like little children full of Hope, awe and wonder. So it`s time to sparkle and shine(even if we live with Humbuggers like I do). Let the Love in, unwrap the will to provide others with comfort,Joy and Peace. As you sparkle and shine it gives others permission to shine too.

Chocolate pots for Sam (Goddess of plenty and patron saint of chocoholics)
1 large bar of Plain chocolate (I like Bournville for this)
2 eggs
A healthy splosh of Brandy
Melt the chocolate and separate the eggs. Beat the yolks into the chocolate to make a glossy mixture and whisk the egg whitesand fold into the chocolate goo. Pour into cocktail glasses and sprinkle a liitle brandy over the top. Put in the fridge and leave to set (you may need to sit on your hands to stop you from eatin them before they are set!) Top with whipped cream and eat with a beautiful friend in mind and several "brandy shandies" for afters.xxxx

Friday 9th November

Happy Diwali!

I trained to be a teacher in Leicester and also spent my student days in moss side manchester.I would take a taxi into Rusholme to the curry mile and breathe in the chilli spiked air and dodge the manchester puddles to my favourite restaurant- The Shezan. I love curry - that` s an understatement . I also am a sweethouse fanatic. The rosewater, coconut fudgey cardomon rippled delicacies that sit in the shop window are brushed with gold leaf and are enough to make a weight watcher gold member weep salty tears of defeat. Barfi is the Indian version of a selection box but one that would make a sugar plum fairy go into a diabetic coma!!

Diwali is the Hindu festival of lights. My name Clare means light which is probably why I have an ongoing battle with Mr N over energy saving lightbulbs-ugh! how dim can you be? Us girls are simple- we need fairy lights, candle light and firelight to stoke up our love engines not drab energy savers that make you want to put your wincyette pjs on forever!
So this week at school we have partied Diwali stylee , eaten popadoms galore, made samosas, drunk mango smoothies and made the most delicious sweets all of which we ate by the twinkliest of diva light.

The November days are dark and long we need to light up the darkness with bonfires fireworks and tealights whatever our religion. Me- my religion is kindness, it`s all we need to give in ,order to receive love back in bountiful supply. And it`s free. So be a diva bright light this weekend not an energy saving dullard . Light up the darkness by taking the time and energy in sharing a meal with someone special who you love.

Barfi

1 bag of dessicated coconut
1 large can of condensed milk
3 drops rosewater
2 cardomon pods

Boil the milk with the cardomon pods and leave to infuse. Take out the pods and add the rosewater and coconut put in a tin and leave to set in the fridge. Yummy.
Cut into squares and eat with milky sweet chai. Boil up water and teabags in a pan add full fat milk and cardomon pods about 4, boil until syrupy. Pour into cups and have with lots of sugar. No doubt my next blog will be dictated from the dentist`s!! YOLO!(You only live once)

What`s for dinner Clarey?: What`s your favourite?My favourite meal is proba...

What`s for dinner Clarey?: What`s your favourite?

My favourite meal is proba...: What`s your favourite? My favourite meal is probably a crab bap and a cold glass of fizz eaten in the sunshine on a Cornish, Yorkshire or ...

What`s your favourite?

My favourite meal is probably a crab bap and a cold glass of fizz eaten in the sunshine on a Cornish, Yorkshire or Manx beach with the sea close by and my family even closer.But with so many people starving in the World I love all my food, we are the lucky ones who have too much of everything.
Mr N is definately a steak and chips kind of guy- all meat and no veg if you catch my drift.Jemima is a mince and poatoes girl, I give her comfort she brings me joy! Jimmy would be a roast chicken dinner with mountains of roasties- he`s the traditionalist followed by Lily`s love of Creme brulee and curry so I guess she`s my spicy one. All of my family are a bit perky and demanding and hungry and usually all of the above all at once but I love them! They are my reason for getting up everyday and staying up late every night trying to juggle school and home life like a hapless juggler in need of a damson gin. My family is not a box of Quality Street - I do not have favourites, no orange creams left in our tin. They are all the Green triangle- they are all my favourites! I find their company, their triumphs and failures equally delicious and I will always be here for them with my arms open wide ready to hug, hold and catch them if they fall. Today is half term - hooray!To all you tired out teachers please slow down, please relax and watch some junk food telly and drink red wine til your teeth are purple. Life is a song and a silly one at that but it can get a bit boring if you always sing the same one. Don`t forget to put your clocks back on Saturday night and snog the face off your truelove on Sunday morning as that extra time is a gift and a precious one at that. So here`s my recipe for love tonight...

Crab and Linguine

Boil up a pan of water and add a pack of linguine and a stock cube. In another pan heat up butter,chilli and garlic and the white meat from a fresh crab.Add a splash of white wine and a pot of double cream and some flat leafed parsley. Mix with the linguine and eat with someone equally delicious! xxtwitter

Ben

As I was growing up our family pet was a rather bouncy golden Labrador called Ben. I think it is safe to say we got him cheap, as he was what is rather cruelly referred to as the "runt" of the litter.  He was very short legged and fat unlike his brothers and sisters, so much so that his mother and father would have possibly appeared on The canine version of the Jeremy Kyle show , if it existed, to undergo a DNA test, just to confirm that his Mum hadn`t been cocking her leg near a Jack Russell!

Anyway, to us he was just bouncy Ben and we loved him. He had a personality disorder unfortunately. Apart from me and my Mum he hated all females. My brother Tim was the best looking boy at school. My friends were probably only my friends so that they could come round and  have tea with Mr Perfect!  Needless to say he had a very long string of girlfriends most of whom Ben bit. My Auntie Wendy who is animal mad and a bit of a Dr Doolittle even got nipped by Ben, yes no finger or skirt was left unragged after Ben had launched himself at you. The recent film Marley and Me could have been a doggy biopic on Benny boy`s life, the similarities were  so startling. When ever I had boy trouble I would walk up Back Lane with him and tell him all my troubles whilst he momentarily would put a wet nose up to mine before tearing off to savage some poor toddler child or old lady.

He used to get drunk eating all the rotten apples in our orchard which had fermented and he could literally pebble dash the wall with Victoria plum stones after gorging himself on them all day whilst we were at school. Once he managed to get his snout round the fridge door and ate a whole ham. He lay on the chaise longue in the conservatory like some Oscar Wilde character looking quite green with debauchery! He even dived through a plate glass window  to catch a rabbit once and then marauded off to pin up one of Tim`s ex girlfriends at our local chippy.Yes Ben was certainly a character.

Sadly my parents divorced when I was at University and my Mum moved into a two up two down.There wasn`t a bedroom for me and certainly no kennel for bouncy Ben. I was living in a student house of girls in Leicester at the time and the landlord said there was no way I could have a psycho pet , even as a guard dog which is how I tried to sell the situation to him. I was demented it was like putting a family member up for adoption and I was utterly powerless to save him. I didn`t brush my hair for a week and cried more (I`m ashamed to say) than I did when my Grandfather died which coincidentally was that same year.

Ben went to a lady in Huddersfield and was adopted through the Labrador rescue scheme. She had recently lost her husband and the letters and Christmas cards she so kindly shared with my family over the next five years painted a very different picture of the rascal we knew and loved.  He was her ever present guardian, pulling her out of bed on days when she was too grief racked to get up. Playing softly with her grandchildren and he was her faithful companion until he died. 

A few years previous I had passed through Huddersfield on the train and a lady and Labrador got off at the station.I wanted to tear down the train  doors  and run to my long lost friend one more time but the train moved on and I don`t know to this day whether the rather podgey affable looking pooch was infact my childhood friend.

It doesn`t really matter though, because he had a lovely life with two masters and families who adored him, even though he was a bit keen, a bit fat and not a thoroughbred at all. I don`t think I could own another dog. He broke my heart you see. 

My idea of Heaven would be Filey beach, walking in the rain with Ben and my beloved Grandpa "Poppa Roy". 

I still have lots of life to live I hope...but one day I dream that I might see  my Ben again.

Meatball curry pilaff

Curry always cheers me up!! Sorry if that one made you cry.Blame it on the curry.

fresh meatballs, (or failing that roll minced beef into tiny balls with a little seasoned flour)

2 jars curry sauce

coriander

2 microwaveable pilau rice packets

1 tin tomato soup

1 tbs brown sugar

1 slug sherry

Fry the meatballs in a little oil until browned add any dry curry spices you have and then pour in the sauces and tomato soup ,sugar and sherry and cook through for 30 mins on a hob. Microwave the rice and fluff up with a knob of butter and mix into the curry mixture. Serve with the chopped fresh coriander, a peshwari nan and some spicy mango chutney. Feed the leftovers to any greedy Labrador you can find.

Cloud 9

The power of Love is such a mighty force. When you are in it, you are sort of elevated from the everyday dullards and although you`re probably not safe to be let out ,as you`ve got your cloud 9 head on ie no common sense whatsoever, it can make the dullest of Mondays shine brightly.

Making the bed for that person or making them a meal (or skipping both and just going to bed)takes on a special quality. The other night I must admit to being a little tipsy and my better half was searching for a midnight feast. So drunk on love and perhaps a very nice bottle of pinot noir I went into the kitchen and flung open the fridge on a mission to make him feel loved up and cared for. What did I find in there? A pint of shelled shrimps from Morecambe bay of course. Well not be deterred by the maggot like little beauties I rustled up something gorgeous even if I was having a serious case of the munchies (whereby a pot noodle might have seemed equally gorgeous!) It was just the intention to be kind that rustled into the pan and onto the plate and made Matty smile.That smile that you know means he likes you even more than chips and just as much as Tranmere rovers (and that`s a lot!)

So here it is my little strawberries of love...

Tipsy Morecambe bay shrimps

1lb shrimps ,shelled

garlic granules

freeze dried parsley

butter

slug of sherry

1tbs chilli jam (how drunk was I to add this but it works!)

Get a big nob of butter and fry the shrimps in it.Add garlic, parsley, chilli jam and a slug of sherry.

Pour into individual pots 2 greedy ones ,or 4 lighter ones.

Pop in the fridge until the butter sets. Smush onto sour dough toast or croissants if your teeth can`t cope with the chewy stuff. Heavenly breakfast in bed with your favourite person.

"If you have good thoughts they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely."

Roald Dahl

It`s Friday eat a pie day.

The feeling you get coming home from work on a Friday should be somehow harvested , made into a drug and administered free on the NHS. it must be chemical.

 Monday morning the snarled up traffic with grumpy white van men,  bleary eyed school children dawdling along with heavy hearts seems like a silent movie night at a school for the blind. The apathy cloud rolls over the Howgill Fells and it takes two hail Marys and a double espresso to pull me out of my bed.

I love my life and all the days in between Monday to Friday. But Friday night is mine.

I remember all the Halcyon Fridays of my youth in York. Going to the "cinema" aka The hansome Cab, The Tiger, Fibbers, Ziggys dressed in neon shades with dodgy perm bobbling in the wind. The Spanish inquisition   ensued at home as to the exact plot line of "Clockwise" or whichever movie I had supposedly watched. Mind you as I got older the cinema was more dangerous! Everyone smoked and snogged the film away...bliss.

Then I fell in love and Fridays were about waiting. Waiting for my parents to go out, waiting for my truelove to arrive...on his bike. Firelit snuggles on the sofa and Napoletana pizza.

Saturday mornings were equally golden. I worked in Fred`s home bakery with a marvellous woman called Alma. We got on famously from the start, and I can honestly say that making sandwiches out of French sticks, listening to Radio York and getting the bread orders ready was one of the most satisfying jobs I`ve ever had. Give us this day our daily bread...really mattered to the old and bold who came into the shop for a little chat and a bloomer. When I left at 12.30 I was ladened with Big bertha cream cakes and Pies and pasties and I went round to a very dear friends house for Saturday lunch and pots and pots of tea. It was a golden time, like a sanctuary to me and showed me what sort of family I wanted for my own.

University all mingled into one, it was Friday everyday and I met Matty there who came to build my new family and be at the centre of all the Friday nights to come. Tonight I am exhausted but there is red wine by the fire and lasagne in the oven and  all the promise of a little golden time with those I love for the next 48 hours. Friday, eat a pie day indeed.

I haven`t been to the shops Lasagne

This is really what`s for dinner Clarey!

Lasagne sheets

1 jar of posh pasta sauce

1 chorizo sausage

1 pack of ham

All the end bits of cheese in the fridge

1 can of tomato soup

Bechamel sauce, 1tbs flour,1tbs butter, single cream, parmesan cheese

Make the white sauce, add any cheese you like and a tsp of English mustard.

layer the lasagne with ham, chorizo tomato sauce,soup, all the cheeses and then finally the white sauce. season with loads of black pepper and bung in the oven for 30 mins until bubbling and ready to be snaffled on the sofa in front of a warm fire, with a hot man at your side and a big glass of red to make you smile that it`s wine o`clock at last.

The Windfalls

The best things in life are free , like the laughter you create dancing in the kitchen with your children to wear them out before bedtime.The look of pure love on your little ones face when you come to pick them up after a hard day at school. Or first love , you know the one you said you`d love  forever and really meant it. Only time and circumstance turns our heartfelt promises into untruths. I love this time of year when you can forage for blackberries and windfall apples. Some things that are unexpected and free , taste so much better for being so. When I was fourteen I had a lovely boyfriend Wocko, who I now know to be a mega successful lawyer and I hope and pray he is happy and loved. He really was the one who got away. I think he might have had a few teenage spots, didn`t we all. Every time I look at a spotty banana I think of him- the spotty ones are always the sweetest!

Tomorrow we shall "plough the fields and scatter" at church, like I have done for the last 40 years every Autumn.It is Harvest everyday for us though isn`t it really. I`ll always remember a little girl I taught who had a tough life. She would horrify the other children in circle time telling us about the sniffer dogs who came to her house that weekend, or her Mum getting done for shoplifting. She wore a camel gilet to school one day it was suede with a fluffy fur lining and she looked an angel in it. "They took back all the other stuff mi Mam robbed , but they didn`t get my jacket", she beamed. When it was Harvest she brought in a plastic bag full  of windfall apples she had picked on her way to school. If there is a God in Heaven he would have been beaming down at her that day, because her gift was the most precious Harvest gift I think I have ever seen. When it was Christmas she brought me a present - a Mr Kiplings mince pie she had wrapped up herself in some shiny silver foil. I think teaching is hard work sometimes but then once or twice in a career it delivers the most precious of gifts at times when we need them most.

Windfall crumble

Take a few manky apples and blackberries and wash them thoroughly, especially if you live near Sellafield like we do!!

Stew them in a little sugar, water and splash of white wine, sprinkle on cinnamon.

To make the crumble rub 100g butter into 175g of self raising flour. Stir in 6oz of muscavado sugar and 25g of oats for a crunchy crumble.

Bake in a medium oven for 20 mins until golden, serve with vanilla custard and be grateful for every free mouthful!! xx

Does anybody really like Christmas cake?


It just dawned on me yesterday that the C word "Christmas" is not so far away. Of course we all have mountains to climb and obstacles in our lives to overleap before then that sometimes seem too much to bear. It`s the same every year and yet miraculously the year turns like a glittering sand timer and the hope and expectations of a happy time ahead in itself is enough to guide us through the dark days of Autumn.
I am not going to get trussed up like a rather anxious turkey worrying about being perfect this year. I am not. End of. Sometimes the best of times cannot be gift wrapped or planned, or bought- they just happen because of all the Love we have stored like squirrels over the years. My store of love is a larder full of nuts ie my family and the traditions we cling onto and the mere memories of days that are no more but were filled with special people.
I am not making a Christmas cake or buying boxes of chocolate biscuits this year. I do it in October like a good girl and then the adorables in my house badger me for months asking if they can have a slice or a handful. "No!" I say we`re saving them for Christmas. Of course when they do get brought out on Christmas day after lunch and turkey butties , nobody wants them anyway as they are too full!
 Does anybody really like Christmas cake anyway?
But maybe...It`s the smells and the stirring and the little helpers wanting to lick the bowl when making it that are evocative of Christmases past when we were young and carefree. So maybe I will make one to ensure my children have cinnammon flavoured happy memories of their Mum in years to come if ever they need a happy thought to cheer them. When it is cooked and iced and fed with brandy if anyone wants a slice and it`s only October they can have one! Because today is the best day we have and we need to eat ,drink and be merry more often than once a year if you ask me.


I`m going to make some Damson gin today for Chrimbo and urge you to do the same!

Damson Gin

2lbs Damson washed and pricked
2litre pop bottle or a few clean coffee jars
1litre gin (Aldis finest will do)
6-8oz sugar
Prick the Damsons and pop into the bottle/jars. Add the sugar and Gin. For the first few days tilt the bottle to ensure the sugar dissolves. Put into a dark cupboard for 3 months (Chrimbo!!) and then decant and strain before putting into a decanter or little bottles to give as the best gifts ever.

I feel much more optimistic now I know I am going to make someone (like my children`s teachers) a really special gift.

Rain rain go away!

I don`t know why I let myself be talked into moving miles away from my friends and family without first doing some meteorological investigations. "The Lakes" should have given the game away I suppose as they certainly don`t fill themselves. No, the rain it raineth everyday in Kendal. If you watch the weather forecast there`s always a rain cloud (probably superglued) right on top of Kendal! It`s so debilitating and the Kendal bouffant frizzy hair look is so not a good one.I think the biggest trauma has been having to buy an anorak , in York I had a nice umbrella to pop up before I alighted from a nice dry taxi and tottered up the Stonegate cobbles in my high heels to a nice warm pub.In Cumbria I find myself having indepth conversations with shop assistants about breathability and if the rain will bead off my raincoat. I just want an animal print fun fur affair!

A town mouse I shall always be...

Rant over and log fire crackling in the hearth , curtains firmly swooshed and amber tealights twinkling in their diwas, I feel so different now. In Autumn the change of the seasons can leave you with a sense of loss, darkness is on the way and the Summer has faded like the sandal strap tan on your toes. It is a time when we cannot go rushing up mountains after dinner , or garden until our backs give way. Salads are shelved and bring on the comfort food that`s what I say! Comfort and Joy whatever the weather, even far from home as long as we`re together. That`s the reason that I stay , because to my little family we are already home. They love the mountains, the Lakes , the muddy welly walks before lunch.Lately on these dark nights I have been revisiting a childhood favourite with Jemima. She adores Worzel Gummidge! "A slice of cake and a cup of tea suits Aunt Sally and that suits me..."

Happiness rests on such little things, a cuddle with your Mummy and a nice sweet cup of tea and a slice of cake is cooking up firelight teatime memories for my own special ones. For me my best teatime memory  has to be Battenburg cake at my Nanna`s house,tea with sugar lumps, gas fire hissing and then a game of rummy or two on a little table she put up for us in front of the fire.Then we would crackle as we got into bed as the floor was cold but the mattress was sizzling from the electric blanket she so kindly put on for us. I`m sure it rained just as much in my childhood in York as it does now , but the grown ups who loved and protected me with an all encompassing umbrella of love never let the rain make them grizzle! 

So I must put on my anorak and hiking boots and splash through the puddles in my life until a sunny spell blows in.

Pork fillet

1 long pork fillet (looks like an alien)

handful of interesting mushrooms

1 pot of double cream

sherry

garlic

butter

red onions

thyme

wholegrain mustard

Seal the pork fillet on all sides in a heavy pan in a knob of butter. Then pop into a medium oven for 30 mins until roasted , add a sprig of two of thyme and garlic cloves as well. To make the sauce add the meat juices to a pan with a sliced onion ,mushrooms and a  spoon of mustard , pot of cream pepper and sherry, heat until a silky sauce is formed. Serve the sauce on the pork, cut into medallions. I know it sounds Plebian but I love this one with french fries to soak up the sauce and a few Green beans for goodness sake!

I haven`t written my blog for weeks as I have been too busy being happy and just living life. It feels good to write it once again and let you all know that the minute we realise that we are all connected and noone is truly alone, then difficult days seem suddenly a little easier and a little sunnier too. :)xx

Fifty shades of Roy

My Grandad or "Poppa Roy" as he was known to his friends was the patron saint of pork pies! He was a big gentle giant of a man who had the most beautiful twinkly eyes as bright as polished Whitby jet. He wasn`t very old when he died but his life had been full of kind deeds and the legacy he left us all was Love. Whenever we are going to the supermarket we say out loud "find us a parking spot Poppa Roy" and he always does.
He had huge hands and a huge heart, a weak one unfortunately for us all. Whenever I saw him he was rattling the tins in the pantry looking for lemon curd tarts or rock buns. He only ate brown bread which my Grandma made for him most days. Like me his idea of Heaven was a walk along Filey beach and Fish and Chips from Browns chippy or a fresh crab from a pretty girl on the sea front.
In the war he was in the RAF and his plane crashed. He was burned and invalided out of the service and became a local Bobby.In his later years he was a social worker , placing children into loving homes. That was his forte -as any child lucky enough to be in his family certainly knew the meaning of a loving home. When I had to sit my cycling proficiency he bought me a new Dawes bicycle, when a boy had broken my heart he helped mend it by telling me he wasn`t the man for the job anyway. I can remember sunny afternoons in his beautiful garden eating ham sandwiches and drinking tea. When we were little we used to race to clamber into bed with him and Gaggy in the mornings. He would open his bedroom window and feed the birds with crumbled biscuits, they were so tame they would fly into his room for their breakfast too or perch on his shoulder in the living room whilst he was watching the test match. What a sweetheart he was , a man capableof charming the birds from the trees.
You get eternal life through your children, the sparkling eyes look up at me from under a blonde mop of hair every breakfast in the face of my little boy Jimmy. Like his grandfather he won the cup at school for his sporting prowess and has a fondness for one of each and pork pies. Although they never met it is so comforting to talk about my grandfather, funnily he spent his Summers in the Lakes like us, his granny had a house on Windermere and another at Ulverston. So when we are there , we really are walking in the footsteps of a giant.

Yorkshire Parkin
If Yorkshire had entered the Olympics as a country in its own right it would have had more medals than south Africa! Eee I`m proud to be a Yorkshire terrier forever...


1lb oatmeal
4oz plain flour
8oz sugar
2tsp ground ginger
4oz melted butter
300g treacle
9 floz milk
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1 beaten egg
2 nuggets of ginger in syrup sliced.

Mix all the dry ingredients then add the melted butter and black treacle, crystallised ginger , egg and milk. Pour into a lined tin.Pop into a gas mark 2 oven for 1  3/4 hours. This improves and goes all chewy and clarty if you leave it in a tin for two days. In Yorkshire we would have a slice of this with some Wensleydale cheese- yes really.

As my Poppa Roy would say "Cake without cheese is like a kiss without a squeeze!" Fifty shades of Roy eh... he would think the World had gone mad if he could see everyone on mobiles (talking to themselves) , a smoking ban just about everywhere and respectable young girlies like myself swapping PD James for E L James!!

What`s for dinner Clarey?: My best friendI think it is strange when people ...

What`s for dinner Clarey?: My best friend

I think it is strange when people ...: My best friend I think it is strange when people say that they have married their best friend! I love Mr N when he`s bad ...I love Mr N w...

My best friend

I think it is strange when people say that they have married their best friend! I love Mr N when he`s bad ...I love Mr N when he`s good(not v.often) and even give him time off for good behaviour and let him play ping pong and cycle his bike allover Cumbria without me. He is my life in lots of ways, he protects me whatever and I feed him lovely dinners and dance with him in the kitchen after work much to our children`s disgust! We are the best of friends(but I can`t tell him all my secrets!)   I have a relationship that has endured even longer than Matty and that is my best friend Emma.

Friendships born in childhood are special. She is like a treasure that I jealously guard like Gollum and his precious ring! We met in the 80s and have the dodgey perm photos to prove it. We had matching boyfriends who were in a band called "Shrink to fit" they unceremoniously dispatched us but I have to thank those lovely boys for giving me the best gift ever... my best friend.When my parents divorced her home was like a sanctuary to me. I remember the most delicious Sunday roast pork and lemon meringue pie at her house which was like balm to my hurt teenage mind. We went to University together and dodged the Manchester puddles hand in hand on our way home to our Moss side abode.Her Italian Nonna knitted us socks and she encouraged me to give Matty a second date! We have held onto our friendship for 23 years, repaired broken hearts and been unstinting in our loyalty to one another(better than most marriages!). She was my beautiful bridesmaid , God mother to my twins and though we are often far apart  I know we are always close by in our thoughts. Singing the same song, wearing our red lippy, hugging our children tight, teaching other peoples children how to believe in themselves and dishing out love to whoever needs a bowlful.

Love is like manure , it only does any good if you spread it around.I have blossomed and grown  as a result of her evergreen friendship and love. Every day I give thanks for Emma, she will be my bezzy til the very end when we`re going on a "grab a Grandad" fortnight to Filey(she won`t tell Mr N!) I know I may sound soppy but my best friend gives me hope , that life should be and can be beautiful just like her.

Pizza

She`s a quarter Italian , my best friend Em, so she might not like this Yorkshire scone version, but she`s so polite she`d eat it up any way I know!

8oz plain flour

4oz butter

salt

mixed herbs

loads of grated red leicester cheese

cup of milk

2 onions

2 garlic cloves

1 tin chopped tomatoes

tomato puree

sugar

fresh basil

2 mozzarella balls

3 tomatoes sliced

anchovies

I spoke to Em today and as always she cheers me on to be the best I can be.So I made this for the kiddiwinkles and Matty for lunch.

Make a scone dough base by rubbing the butter into the flour and adding a pinch of salt and a handful of cheese and enough milk to make a pliable dough. I added a few mixed herbs and a squirt of tomato puree too. Line a large baking tray thinly with the dough.Meanwhile make the tomato sauce by frying onions, garlic in butter and adding canned tomatoes , a pinch of sugar and some fresh basil, reduce to a thick sauce and put on top of the base.Top with sliced fresh tomatoes, then the mozzarella and then the red cheese and anchovies. Bake at the top of a medium oven for 30 mins. Serve with homemade coleslaw(red,whitecabbage, red onions,grated carrots ,lemon juice and nice mayo) and let your family wash up whilst you go and ring your best friend.

Let the holidays begin!

I know I have actually been on holiday for a fortnight now but it is only this morning that I bounced out of bed feeling like me again. So many of us get so ground down by work and worries that we sleepwalk through the weeks, wishing for a little lie in and a little peace.

Well I am glad to report I am awake! Ready for any hedonistic opportunities that may come my way. Yes the weather is decidedly wet but that meant I made a roaring hot curry and a roaring hot fire last night. We went to Uncle Larry`s funeral last week which was heartbreakingly sad but the day was awash with tears and tender moments. Great big dockers hugging one other and telling each other that they loved them.The priest was epic. He said that we would have all been telling stories about Larry in the days after he died, which was true. Then he asked a robust question to such a vulnerable wet eyed congregation. "What are you going to do with all the stories?" When challenged if it would just be "business as usual tomorrow?" or given the option to take the best bits of Larry`s story on earth and weave it into our own tale I chose the latter.

We all have our own story. Home is where it begins which is why I don`t spend my money on fancy holidays or cars I can`t afford. My children`s stories will have the very best beginning I can fashion for them...the middle and end will be up to them. If ever I come across a difficult person, which in my house is often, I remind myself they all have a different story to me and I let it go rather than linger on the sad or bad bits.
That`s the brilliant thing about life, your story is your own, you can write an epic, or a thriller or a romance everyday through the kind deeds you do and more often through the unkind deeds you don`t do.

My brother Leo gave me a bike at the weekend, a wonderful kind thing to do , because now I`m raring to go and fully awake. The next bit of my own story will be about biking up mountains with my special ones, chains falling off and puncture repair kits no doubt.That`s life , you`ve got to get rid of your stabilisers first, the things you think protect you but only really hold you back and stop you from bombing down the hills with your hair in a kip and flies up your nose feeling fully alive and awake calling out "WHEEEEE!"


Hairy Clarey`s biker`s Breakfast
Comfort and joy - eat the food then enjoy the ride.
Toast a bagel and butter it quickly top it with a few slices of Parma ham , a poached egg and a few shavings of fresh parmesan cheese. Accompany  with a pint of Earl grey tea and some sugar lumps then go for a ride on your bike, put your beret on your saddle for extra comfort.

14 years.

Some people have photographic memories for dates or facts. All my best memories are edible and sensory. I can`t remember the year but I can visualise the Metallic blue of my Dad`s new Cortina E and how excited we were waiting for him to come home in it. I can`t remember the date but I can still feel the surge of ticklish excitement I felt the first time I laid eyes on Mr N. I know we went on a non date to see Rochdale vs Mansfield Town and I can`t remember what the day was but I instinctively knew when a copper started chatting me up and a big hand curled it`s fingers around mine that the match of the day was infact ours and I was hooked.

I can`t remember why we fell out once, but smile from here to Lands End when I remember the clink of glasses when he brought real snow into our hotel reunion room to chill the Champagne. The chocolate fudge cake that lay beneath our white Wedding cake exterior tasted delicious and mirrors our life together- full of surprises.

I can spot potential and the geeky and brusque Viking who I thought was the rudest person I had ever met appeared to be an outsider but I`m so glad I backed that thoroughbred.

Quite simply we are opposites . We clash everyday like a pair of cymbals!! Tomorrow we will have been married for fourteen years and he makes me laugh more than he makes me cry which is good enough for me. The gene pool has been an awfully good union too. Viking Greek God + Energetic  Yorkshire pudding = Super model children!

I hope we are lucky enough to be married for as long as our Auntie Sue and Uncle Larry were. He passed away last week and Auntie Sue during an argument had said she would dance on his grave when the fateful day came. The King of the one liners that he was made her promise she would infact dance on his grave "I will " she roared..."Good" he replied  " Cos I`m getting buried at sea!"

God bless Uncle Larry.

Chocolate mousse for happy days and sad days

1 large bar of plain chocolate

2 eggs separated

Melt the chocolate and beat the egg yolks in until you have a glossy mixture, then whisk the hites and fold in carefully to make the yummiest mousse ever. You can add brandy or Amaretto( whatever your poison may be) or simply top with some whipped double cream. Serve in a wine glass , chill in the fridge. Skip the main course and dive in.

Happy Anniversary Matty, my heart is yours now and forever even if you do make me go at the tap end at bathtime.xxx

What`s for dinner Clarey?: A trip to the dentistI used to have a Fry`s choc...

What`s for dinner Clarey?: A trip to the dentist

I used to have a Fry`s choc...: A trip to the dentist I used to have a Fry`s chocolate cream addiction. They only cost 16p when I was a lass. I loved them to my detriment...

A trip to the dentist

I used to have a Fry`s chocolate cream addiction. They only cost 16p when I was a lass. I loved them to my detriment. Coming from York my world revolved around chocolate. Rowntrees and Terrys were the  kings of confection in those days and everyone seemed to work at one factory or another. I remember one day on the A64 a lorry carrying Quality Street chocolates collided with a barrier and shed its load allover the road. All the children from Copmanthorpe village arrived quickly on their bikes with empty school bags , buckets , even riding helmets, whatever empty vessel we could lay our hands on and greedily scooped up the choccies. Every child deserves to have a magical day like that one.
When I grew up and married , I went to live next door to the Kit Kat factory and every morning I cycled past it on my way to work breathing in lungfulls of heavenly Nestle chocolate.
All this sweetness led me to the dentist`s chair and a root canal job that put my cocoa passions to bed.
I`m definately a cheese and wine party girl these days and although I make a mean Malteser cake it`s only really a vain attempt to fatten up all my skinny friends!
But if ever I am low or feeling small , there`s nothing nicer than a mug of sweet tea and a Kit Kat to send my spirits soaring higher than York Minster. Let`s face it - if you`re going to have a biscuit have a bloody good one!!
Tomorrow I have to go to the dentist with my little family. For some bizarre reason I love to pull out teeth. Any wobbly ones get my fingers twitching , but the children are wise to me now and say it is a priviledge reserved only for the tooth fairy or their cumudgeonly dentist Mrs Tootell. She really is a kindly sparkly eyed dentist (not like my Dr Butcher who had hands that smelled of beefburgers and scared me to sweetex), she is always on holiday playing golf and has a mouthful of amalgams just like me. This fruit eating sugar free generation that my little ones belong to might get less fillings, but they also get less choccy... poor darlings!


CHOCOLATE lollipops

To make 12 lollies
7oz milk choc
7oz white choc
1oz dried cranberries
1oz pistaschios/or sunflowers seeds
sugar sprinkles
wooden lolly sticks

Melt the choc in separate bowls in the microwave . Spoon in circles onto greaseproof paper and swirl with the other chocolate, top with nuts, fruits and sprinkles. Lay a lolly stick about a third of the way into the lolly mix and cover the top of the stick with a little blob more of the chocolate so that it will stay put once it has set. pop into the fridge for 30 mins then peal off to have your very own chocolollies enough to make the meanest dentist smile.

The Leftovers

Sometimes we misguidedly think that by throwing lots of money at a situation we can solve it.
It doesn`t. We can`t.
That the huge Christmas dinner will be the best meal of the year.
Me - I prefer the leftovers.

That turkey and stuffing butty after the carnage that is Christmas has slipped by, tastes like perfection to me. Sitting by an open fire with a large Brandy knowing that all the good deeds are done and I can relax.

It`s the same with Sunday lunch, there`s always some poor bugger with her head in the gas oven (me)whilst everyone else is lazily perusing the Sunday papers. I prefer the chicken soup the next day that I make from the leftovers.
Now this perspective is coming from a girl who prefers beef liver to fillet steak. Another perfect example of how you can make something fantastic out of things that others see as waste. I cannot stand waste.
Everyday we shouldn`t waste a second having regrets or feeling hard done to. I am not a model size and never have been but it would be a waste of my life wishing to be something I am not. It would have been a  waste of all that love I have inside me for my husband and my children if  he hadn`t put this big busty Yorkshire terrier in his shopping basket even though she wasn`t the slimmest sausage in the pack! You need to crystallise your thoughts and realise every now and again that your table is overflowing.
Don`t be an outcast from Life`s feast.
The best meal I ever had was when Matty was 40 and there had been an inspection at school so I`d had no time to rustle up a gourmet celebration for him. All of his family and friends brought sausages and Nobbly bobbly ice creams to a camping barn in the lakes and it tasted like manna from Heaven.
Life is fleeting and quickly it seems we move from the mains to afters. I`m looking forward to the leftovers of my life, I think they`re going to taste the sweetest yet .


Pan fried pizza

I love cold pizza , the morning after a Saturday night of Cava gargling with my friends. Sadly there seldom seems to be enough leftovers so these little beauties are amzingly quick and delicious.

Per hungover person or hungry horse of a teenager

2 soft tortillas
sprinkling of grated cheese
1 tomato sliced
few slices of red onions
black olives and anchovies if you can be bothered!(Any fridge leftovers will do)

Put a slug of olive oil in a non stick frying pan and make a sandwich with all the ingredients, we always add a smattering og King Naga chilli sauce but we`re a bit loopy. Then fry the pizza sandwich on each side til it melds together and puffs up like a golden olympic discus. Best eaten with a Buck`s fizz or if you can`t face it wait for the Communion wine to give you the hair of the dog that bit you!

Happy holidays

It`s nearly here...the time when we pack up our troubles and make our escape from reality. Be it in a windy tent or a Malaysian long house, for a fortnight we are bound together with our nearest and dearest! Sometimes frankly it`s too close for comfort.
I love and adore my family,to put it in a nutshell I would donate them any of my organs worth having, let`s face it  I would die for them. Sometimes though when waking up in a leaky tent to rafts of snores, the plip plip of the rain and the plop plop of my flatulent spouse and offspring I think a holiday on my own might be lovely.
I could drink Cava for breakfast and skip lunch.I could sunbathe on a balcony G&T clutched in one hand , "Fifty shades of Grey" int`other. I could smoke St.Moritz menthols and talk to my Mum on the telephone without being told off like the naughty school girl that I am, and that lurks within! I could leave my wet towel on the floor and not be the "maid" for once who picks it up and smoothes out the wrinkles in the bedspread or has to be the Peacemaker in the argument about whose turn it is to sit in the front seat. I`d gladly sit in the car seat with a dummy in my gob being chauffered around and taken out for tea.
But if I holidayed alone I know I would miss all of the above.
So with the great gift of parenthood comes the great mantle of responsibility. This Summer though I am having a holiday from myself and I am going to join in and not be Captain sensible all the time. If they`re having a big ice cream...I`m having one. If they are doing archery, painting, making sandcastles, surfing, cycling ,having a burping competition to Lady Gaga I`m doing it too.
Housework is a swear word not to be uttered in the months of July and August. When I look back on my best holidays they weren`t spent tidying my room, I was on a beach in Cornwall dancing to "Brown girl in the ring"...I want to be that girl again.


Cinnamon toast

When I was 16 I knew a group of adorable boys (My Summer loves)and we used to go to Taylors tea room in York and drink tea and eat this...

3 slices Granary bread crusts removed
1 tbs butter
1 tbs brown sugar
cinnamon
Toast the bread on one side. Make a cinnamon butter by mixing sugar butter and cinnamon together.
Butter the untoasted side and popback under the grill until it melts.
Cut into soldiers and serve in a lattice tower.

Serve with a cup of Early grey and sugar lumps and somebody that you adore this holiday.

The Universe delivers

Some days we find it hard to get out of bed. Today I was filled with some Wonder womanlike energy and came back to life. I think I`ve been in hibernation for a few years now, sleepwalking through the days and focusing on the chinks in my armour instead of marvelling at the Boudicca traits that all of us working girls posess.
Today is all we have. All the days, the ordinary everydays, they are all we have. We should not waste a precious second worrying about what we have failed to do or the bad bits. If you had a beautiful bouquet of flowers and one bloom died , you wouldn`t throw the whole bunch in the bin. So every day in every week be it a bloom of a day or a blooming horrible day has a reason and a rhyme to it. I have left a big part of my life behind today and floated home on a cloud of love generated by lots of special children and their families.

I must admit that it has been dark at times, but it is only in the darkness that you can see the stars shine. And shine they all did for me today.

As Oscar Wilde put it so eloquently "We are all of us in the gutter, only some of us are looking at the stars."

A very beautiful soul who has been protecting me through life`s vicissitudes told me- "Once you let go, the Universe delivers..." and she has.

Smoked salmon pate

1 pack of smoked salmon
1 tub of cream cheese
A few sprigs of dill
1 tsp horseradish
1 squeeze of lemon juice

Plonk the whole lot in a blender and whizz up to pink perfection. Serve on hot melba toasts with a splodge of real butter and a nice glass of bubbles.Thank you to all my blessed munchkins who delivered today and sparkled and shone for me.

Car booty.

I love car boot sales. Packing up all my junk in hope of recycling it the next day in return for some free money to spend on my cherubs for icecreams  and Clark`s shoes and  maybe some Wolford stockings for me!

I love getting up early when I don`t have to and I know that any customers I face don`t own me. I can be as cheeky as I like and ask balding pensioners "Are you going to buy my pink cowboyhat darling?"

I polish up any silver and creep around the house in the pink morning light popping the likes of Buzz Lightyear or annoying dolls that cry into my swag bag. It`s like burglaring my own house and off I trundle in the Volvo to magic unwanted trinkets into happy treats for my little family.

 The Viking I live with finds it all highly amusing and tries to keep me trapped beneath the duvet. I always say  " Don`t get fruity , til I`ve done car booty!"

Today I have chatted to a lovely lady who says she never had any confidence as a child as she was adopted and her Mum was cruel to her. She was shy because last time she came to my stall I sold her a diet book and it hadn`t worked. I told her she was gorgeous just the way she was and sold her a very raunchy Anne summers corset! There is nothing so attractive as a smile and a kind word. Beauty is as beauty does.

I love passing on my old things to people who love them too. The leather rucksack that I was carrying in Gozo when I lost my passport , the red ball dress I wore when I was 17 and so in love, My nanna`s pacamac-all of them have a little story and go happily onto their new owners in a plastic bag. I have no attachment to material things- if my house were on fire I`d grab my adorables and my Viking by the scruff of their necks and bail out and never look back.

I think I would like to have a market stall in the future selling Malteser cakes and my fashion disasters with a smile and a story thrown in for free.I seem to have been heading in the wrong direction for years and today in the sunshine I suddenly had that energy rush of optimism and hope showing me the way to go. Life is all about give and take and as long as you give more than you take you will be fulfilled and renewed.

Chicken soup balm for the soul

1 chicken carcass

1 large onion chopped

1tin of cocnut milk

1tbs sugar

1tbs thai green curry paste

4 fat cloves garlic

extra chicken

1 bunch coriander

chilli flakes

2 tbs fish sauce

1 lime squeezed

Fry the onion and garlic and thai paste add the chicken carcass and a kettle full of water and boil to make a lovely stock. Fish out the bones after 20 mins and strip any chicken into the pan ,add the coconut milk, sugar, lime and coriander. Whizz up with a blender stick and add the extra chicken afterwards with a chicken stock cube, chilli and seasalt to taste. Finish with the fish sauce. This is a spicy witches brew that will lift the lowest of spirits. Serve with toasted buttered naan breads after a cold morning at the car booty.x Then take your Viking to bed.

The Football season is over

I am growing gills and webbed feet living in Kendal in Monsoon season or should I call it a Lake District "Summer". I can never get my washing out and my hair absorbs the moisture like an emotional sponge and I go to work looking like a Zombie Ronald McDonald.
We are in the dip in our house between Milnthorpe and district`s U11 season of glory and when training resumes in August. Most Mums would welcome a rest from the footy kit washing and the touchline heebeegeebees every Sunday. Not me. I am so proud of Jimmy Neal golden hair flashing in the wind, I`ve seen more fat on a chip but my boy is seriously hard- as hard as the Kendal granite which gives the old grey town its gloomy facade. Jimmy is 5ft of pure gold though, he never gives up , if he loses the ball he catches up and gets in the way of it. He is all heart and passion and although he would cringe if he read this is the kindest boy I know. He wouldn`t even move the cat off his chair for fear of hurting her feelings. He always wants a cuddle and tucking in each night. So the football season is over and we are needing a boost, a family trip to Wexford to see the Boys from Boley might just hit the spot. We are related to the national tug of war team for Southern Ireland. They put in a full days work on the farm then at 10pm they train by pulling a solid bale of cement on a rope and sinking a few crates of Bushmills. I cannot wait for August, a harvest moon over Banboggan bay, a break from the Cumbrian mizzle and a chance to reconnect with family. Jimmy`s core of steel I feel was soldered in his genes centuries ago in a little villlage called Clongheen.



Grandad`s favourite

1 large ham
1cabbage
6 potatoes
parsley sauce

Boil the ham in a pan of cold water for an hour. Remove the ham and cover the fat with a mixture of marmalade, English mustard and chilli flakes. Put in a hot oven for a further 20 mins until caramelised. Meanwhile cook the potatoes and chiffonaded cabbage in the ham water and when tender serve with plenty of black pepper and a knob of butter and a thick slice of the ham. To make the parsley sauce, melt a tbs of butter with a tbs of flour to make a roux. Add a pot of double cream to the mixture and stir over a gentle heat until a smooth white sauce appears, add more milk if too thich and a big handful of chopped flat leafed parsley. season wih seasalt and white pepper and a pinch of blade mace.Pour over the ham and potatoes.

If I want anything , anything at all, I make this for my matty and he gives in!

We all have times in our lives when we get the fuzzy end of the lollipop. When no matter how hard we try or how good we are ,life doesn`t go according to plan. Like when I had my twins, a natural birth followed by a C-section wasn`t on my birth plan to be honest, mind you twins were a bit of a surprise in the first place anyhow! I can remember being so sick and tired of being sick and tired when I was pregnant. I was teaching in York and I was as shapely as a large galleon in full sail. Double the babies meant double the hormones. My angel TA Sue would ably take over if she spied me turning green . I would bobble off , head in waste paper basket wailing I was never getting pregnant again.After a dodgey prenatal scan I was told that there might be something wrong with one of the babies. The motherlove formed in that instant was overwhelming. I swelled up to at least twice my height and choked back tears as I indignantly replied that I was keeping them whatever. It was the first time I really prayed for myself...for my unborn little flup. Not to be perfect but for me to have the strength to love and care for him whatever the outcome. My nanna gave me a painting of two cupids and sagely said "keep looking at them Clarey and the babbies will be reet." I died a thousand deaths during that pregnancy, the worry was a heavy cloak to wear. I made deals with God. When the twins were born perfectly healthy I breathed again for the first time in months. I kept my deal with God - I`m no better than anyone but I am more grateful than most. That baby who looked so malformed recently came 10th out of 120 in a cross country race, he has won 15 table tennis medals and three Football cups this season. He is living proof that little miracles do happen everyday to ordinary people like me.We live in extraordinary times.The future will be brighter for us all.

When my soul is weary stew and dumplings never let me down...

Drunken bull with stilton dumplings.

Slug of olive oil
900g rump steak cubed
1 tube tomato puree
2 red onions diced
1tbs flour,seasoned
500ml Guinness
1 glass red wine
2 carrots diced
1/2 swede diced
1 tin tomatoes
4 cloves garlic
2 stock cubes
pinch of sugar , sea salt, pepper
fresh flat leafed parsley
1/2 pint whole milk

Coat the beef in the seasoned flour and cook in a heavy pan in the olive oil until browned.
Fry the onions and garlic in a little more oil add the vegetables, return the beef to the pan and add the tomato puree, cook until it caramelises then add the wine, Guinness, and stock and tomatoes. Add the milk and balance flavours with salt , sugar and pepper. cook for 1-2hrs at simmering point with the lid on. Add parsley two minutes before serving.
Meanwhile make the dumplings- i`m such a little porker , but life`s too short to deny yourself any pleasures that are on offer!
To make the dumplings to 200g of SR flour add 100g of suet , a pinch of salt, 50g stilton(blacksticks blue is the best)a tbs of horseradish and 150ml of water , mix together to make 10 balls. Pop on top of the casserole for the last 30 mins of cooking time.
Best served with jacket potatoes, garlic bread, buttered cabbage and a couple of  pubescent hungry twins who have double the hormones and don`t I love it! xx

When Charlie the cat went missing

Happy little Christmas. It is exactly six months until we will all be lying stuffed on the sofa after Christmas dinner, can you believe it? Last Christmas our cat charlie went missing which put a new perspective on our celebrations. The children didn`t "Oooh and Arrr" when we lit the christmas tree lights. They forgot about opening their chocolate Advent calendars. Their Argos gargantuan lists were decimated to one solitary Christmas wish "Charlie come home" :(
After two stormy nights and sleepless ones at that we all more or less steeled ourselves to the fact that there would be one less for dinner this year. No cat fights for the giblets, Charlie was missing in action.
I am glad to report that a little Christmas miracle happened the night before Christmas, the most bedraggled ,dirty, feline bundle you can imagine literally fell through the porch door. He looked as though he had been trapped in a drain or had escaped a fur trader, skinny, filthy and wide eyed he collapsed infront of the fire and curled up in the kindling basket. I had to go and wake up the newly settled children to say that Santa had brought an early gift. Well they all cried , warm ,happy ,salty tears of relief and they smothered Charlie in kisses and got covered in mud and cat fur on their Christmas pyjamas. But noone minded...there are just some special gifts and magic moments that cannot be bought.


Christmas pudding icecream

I am not a great fan of Christmas pudding but this is a great way to make an amazing ice cream with any leftover pud.

1 tub of very lovely vanilla ice cream
1 bowl of leftover Christmas pudding
slug of brandy
slug of baileys

Mix all together and put back in the freezer for a grown up ice cream when it has set. I pour a small glass of baileys over the top. But then again I am completely over the top.
Happy little Christmas.xxxx

What`s for dinner Clarey?: Saturdays are sacred in our house. No running arou...

What`s for dinner Clarey?: Saturdays are sacred in our house. No running arou...: Saturdays are sacred in our house. No running around in search of a hair brush or knickers  (not required at the weekend!) The gentle fug of...

Saturdays are sacred in our house. No running around in search of a hair brush or knickers  (not required at the weekend!) The gentle fug of the central heating steaming up the windows as we wake up to a mizzle. Yes the rain it raineth everyday in the Lake district. I don`t mind, if I don`t have to dodge the puddles alone.Often  I wake up to find a family bed has sprung up over night. The three children, the three cats a Ken who has lost his Barbie and is sticking into my back and of course Mr N all golden floppy haired and dreamy. I lie on the edge of the bed excruciatingly uncomfortable but just marvel at the lot of them, like a pride of lions all dozing ,lazy limbed and lovely.I bow to the king, curtsey to the Queen and show my knickers to the Kendal massif as I bob past the window and pad downstairs in search of the papers and some Earl grey. Bacon and sausage muffins for brekky then we skip down to the Town Hall for ballet. I sometimes peep through the curtains a real peeping Mom and spy on Jemima whirling around in her purple lycra catsuit practising her nutcracker/Olly Muirs fusion dance for her latest show. It is my happiest time of the week . I am not late for anyone or anything and noone is cross with me today. Saturday I love you.


Big omelette for lunch.


A white onion sliced
1 yellow pepper sliced
butter
2 cloves garlic crushed
1 ring of chorizo sliced
handful of mushrooms sliced
6 eggs
2 cooked waxy potatoes
cubes of Manchego cheese
splash of cream or top of the milk (if you are lucky enough to have a milk lady who brings you bottles)


Whisk the eggs and cream with a good sprinkle of sea salt and black pepper.
In another pan fry the onions, pepper, garlic and mushrooms and chorizo in a little butter until all soft
then stir in the eggs and dot with cubes of cheese and potatoes. Cook slowly until hot all the way through , finish off under a hot grill.


This is great hot and an leftovers(unlikely in our house ) are equally delicious cut up like a cake.


Keep Saturdays sacred, eat what you like , drink what you like and spend the day for once with people you like! xx

When I was a lass I worked on an outdoor market stall in York selling fruit and vegetables . Every Saturday morning my very grumpy older brother Tim would press the ejector seat button as we approached York Theatre Royal and I would scamper off down Petergate running past the Minster which stood like a huge golden pile of stilton cheese, not appreciating its grandeur or that I was growing up somewhere magical. I loved the market stall from the start. The smell of the fruit as you unwrapped it, the tree frogs who had hitched a lift in banana boxes, trimming caulis with a stanley knife, oh it was a glamorous job.A very kind lady called Barbara looked after me on my first day and showed me how to spin the brown paper bags  full of Jersey Royals and add up 10 items in my head at one go.The customers were seven deep in those days before supermarkets had smothered the market trade. Lots of handsome students would come and buy squashy tomatoes and would ask me to write my telephone number on those brown paper bags!When it was raining the tarpaulin sheets would bulge with water and we would get a broom handle underneath and splash any sourpusses as they scowled past. I can remember sitting on the back of the stall eating Custard apples with a spoon and feeling deliciously rich with my 17 pounds pay packet. The fish market was opposite and my friend Becky Davidson would get us free fish from the boy who worked there. Anton the Dutchman on the flower stall would bring me flowers wearing wooden clogs. My boss John Mannion and his wife Jean were and still are the most lovely couple, they both have beautiful rosy complexions from 40 years of market life. Even today if I walk past their stall with my children they will give me a peach or a cauliflower and I breathe in the kindness of Newgate market and know I am home. Happiness rests on such random things as a free cauliflower given with love from someone who knows my name.

Squidlishious

We had this for dinner tonight, not for the squeamish but Jemima lapped it all up!

3 large suid- cut into rings with kitchen scissors
plain flour
salt pepper and chilli flakes
oil for frying

Cut the squid into rings dip in the seasoned flour and fry until crisp in a chip pan of oil.
Serve with a big squirt of lemon and chunky chips ,garlic mayo and rocket dressed with a squirt of lemon and drizzle of olive oil. A little piece of heaven made with my market memories in mind.

The first dinner I shared with my husband when we were still teenagers at university was a chilli. I distinctly remember turning up at his student hovel , loitering on the doorstep brandishing a melon.
His flatmate answered the door and he twisted a cheeky smile and commented "nice melons" before shouting incredulously that Matty had a visitor and she was female!! I think all his mates thought that he was gay as he had lots of eccentric Bridesheadlike chums whom he went to Classical concerts with and had picnics with on top of mountains. So a busty little Yorkshire terrier on the front step was a revelation at Netherton Road. The date didn`t go too smoothely , probably because Mr N didn`t think it was infact a date at all. So after he failed to buy me a Magnum at the cinema and only offered milk as a beverage to accompany the chilli I happily stayed on the top of the double decker on our way home and softly turned down his invitation for coffee( which would have really only have been a cup of Maxwell house!) I returned home to my little street house in Moss side and got into bed with my best friend Emma for tea and toast and a date post mortem.
"I`ll never see him again", I chuckled. She was our bridesmaid. And 21 years later he still is lacking an empathy chip but is a rather lovely Daddy and Husband. So sometimes it`s all mapped out for you whether you bring a melon with you or not.

Carrot and chilli soup

A bag of carrots chopped
a kettle full of boiling water
1  chicken stock cube
3 cloves of garlic
1 bunch of coriander
1 tub of extra hot chilli hummus
single cream
salt, pepper, pinch of sugar, splosh of sherry

Boil up the carrots with the stock, water and garlic. Season with S&P and a pinch of sugar and whizz up. To finish stir in the fiery hummus, small pot of cream, sherry and chopped coriander.

Serve with hot buttered granary toast in towers, like at Bettys cafe in York where my heart lies.

Happiness

"When I grow up I want to be happy, Mummy."My little Jemima told me the other day and in a moment of absolute clarity I suddenly realised that`s what I want to be too when I grow up. Well there`s practically no chance of that...growing up that is...but being happy that`s another matter.
Happiness rests on such little things, a smile from a complete stranger or someone letting you in in a traffic jam. Having the time to tuck your little ones in and tell them a story without rushing downstairs "to do some work". When we die or are close to dying we will not lie on our deathbed lamenting that we didn`t spend more time at work or writing school reports. We will only wish that we spent more times with the people we loved and that we let them know unequivocally that we loved them , that we would have gladly died for them or at least taken a bullet for them in true line of fire Clint Eastwood fashion.
My name is Clarey and I`m a tired out teacher I admit it. This time of year, exam time, is truly testing for all - IQs are all well and good but can character,heart and passion be graded? I think not. The only judgement at the end of the day that means a thing is how we might be remembered after death, how generous we were with our time and our affections and are kindnesses. I`m an advocate for Life and living it and don`t worry too much about my demise. Life is short and harsh and horrid at times but when your little girl gives you great insight into what truly matters and what doesn`t, that is a massive reason to be  a happy grown up- safe in the knowledge that the job of  Mother is one you  might get an A* for .

Cauliflower cheese

A Nursery favourite that all my brood wolf down .

1 cauliflower
1/2 pack extra mature cheddar cheese, grated
1/2 pint milk
1 knob of butter
1 tbs flour
1 courgette sliced and fried in butter
1 tsp English mustard
A handful of gammon chopped

Boil the cauliflower florets in salted water until tender. Meanwhile melt the butter and add the flour when it has cooked out, blend in the milk and make a white sauce. Add the cheese and mustard, gammon and courgette and pour over the caulifower. Add a little more grated cheese on top and whack it into a hot oven until bubbling. Cheap as chips and so delicious, whoever you feed this to will know that they are loved.

What`s for dinner Clarey?: PhilematologyI love kissing as much as cooking w...

What`s for dinner Clarey?: Philematology

I love kissing as much as cooking w...: Philematology I love kissing as much as cooking which is saying something. I used to practise kissing on the back of my hand...but it was...

Philematology

I love kissing as much as cooking which is saying something.
I used to practise kissing on the back of my hand...but it was too bony.
I tried baby Jamie in the back of my Dad`s Cortina 2000E  when I was 3 and he was 1 but he was too slobbery and smelled of rusks.I nearly got kissed in a cornfield  once but I chickened out , so when at last my first proper kiss happened I was fighting fit and ready for action. I was in love with two boys who happened to be best friends and so I went from 13 and never been kissed to 13 1/2 and having been smoochy cooched alot! "Careless whisper" was playing in the disco as I had my first taste of super soft smooching ,outside the disco with one and inside with the other! Then there was Wocko he was adorable and could certainly pucker up. Then came true love and I could have kissed him happily forever but he was quickly gone and now I have spent the past 21 yrs   kissing Mr N. Without fail every morning and just before we fall asleep I am woken up and drift off dreamily with a kiss. So if I`m not talking or eating I`m kissing, it`s lifeblood to me. So what`s in a kiss? The answers to all the really important questions  in life - yes- I`ve missed you- I`m sorry -I love you- goodbye.

On the subject of men my Nanna gave me some classic advice "Now then Clarey"she would say whilst sipping Harveys bristol cream , "You should only regret the ones you didn`t kiss."


Napoletana muffin pizzas

These are super quick and remind me of a lovely boy I don`t regret kissing.

4 English breakfast muffins sliced and lightly toasted and buttered
garlic puree
tomato puree
cubes of mozzarella
grated parmesan
black olives
capers
anchovies
slug of olive oil
pinch of oregano

Butter your muffins and top with a squirt of tomato and garlic purees. Sprinkle the two cheeses on topand scatter olives and capers. Make anchovy kisses on top and sprinkle  on a few herbs and a slug of oil . Pop under a hot grill for 5 mins and share with someone you`d like to kiss alot.
xx

When James and Lily escaped

Once upon a time I lived in York , well in a little house just outside of the city. I had 18 month old twins James and Lily and they were so proud of their new found jelly legs. Every morning one would shimmy the other over the stair gate  to their room and they would burst into our bedroom and shout "surprise!"

My heart would be in my mouth when I imagined them falling down the stairs , but they would soon make my heart sing by climbing into bed and nuzzling into my hair. Lily would ask "did you have a good sleep Mummy?" and less loquacious James would give me a shy smile and talk Thomas language "naughty diesel ...HUNGRY!"

One beautiful sunny morning I decided to put them on a play mat next to the washing line and me just in a T-shirt hung out the washing as I sang our "nappyhead" special song. I turned the whirlygig round and to my horror they had disappeared! I soon heard them chuckling mischievously to themselves as they squeezed through a small hole in our fence to the neighbouring school playing fields next door.

Try as I might I couldn`t squeeze through  the hole and so for a heartstopping 60 seconds I tore down the high street knickerless , cheeks stinging with tears in a vain attempt to head them off before they reached the main road. Some angel was watching over us that day , when I got to the school gates they had been cordoned off by an old couple in their cabbage patch.

"Don`t worry lass, they`ll be getting into reet more trouble than that mark my words, We`ve got twins -they`re 52 now and still a couple of little beggars!"

I picked them up like little rugby balls one under each arm and marched home as they wailed "Daddy, we want daddy." I sat on the back step and cried , smoked 10 marlborough lights in one go and then went inside to make their favourite cake.
That`s love, unconditional love. We have it for only the very  special few in our lives who can drive us to the brink and pull us back  just as swiftly with a smile.

Lemon drizzle cake for the great escapees.

8oz butter
8oz sugar
4 eggs
1 lemon zest
8oz SR flour
2 tbs lemon curd

Cream the butter and sugar and add all the other ingredients. Spoon into a loaf tin  and bake for 45 mins in a gas mark 4 oven. When slightly cooled mix the juice of 2 lemons and 4oz sugar together and pour over the cake to make the drizzle.

Just remember to put your knickers on when you  next hang out your washing. xx

Oh to be adored

I think most of us have forgotten what it feels like...to be adored that is. We spend our lives racing around looking after others and trying to make ends meet. The hamster wheel existence is not to be envied but for the majority of working Mums it`s all bed and work and the never ending day turns on. This weekend we are all going to have a holiday from ourselves and hopefully from our usual menus.
Jubilee spells out party food to me.
When I was six it was the Silver Jubilee and we had a street party. My Mum put red white and blue ribbons in my hair and baby Jamie was plonked in the high chair in navy blue terry towelling with a white T-shirt and red nappy rash. We feasted on sandwiches and hot chips(still a big favourite with me) and my Mum made butterfly buns and topped them with white icing and red and blue sweeties. We had red jelly and loads of cream and icecream and all the Dads were down the boozer in their  Capris  or Cortinas chatting up the girls who didn`t have street parties to attend to. I`ll never forget the Silver Jubilee when I was allowed to drink Pepsi cola from my celebration mug and the sun shone and I had no worries apart from whether I would get the last Jammie Dodger before my brothers did!
I know this Jubilee will be magical for my children- we will be in Cornwall , our special place. I will be with my brothers and their children and we will no doubt be drinking Pepsi Cola laced with rum in our Diamond geezer mugs.Food is all about family, feeding and nurturing and cooking up memories that last a lifetime. I hope you will all feel adored this bank holiday and remember what it was like to be a little child full of sweets and hope.

Jubilee Sherry trifle-

I make no apologies for this being a big red white and blue boozy cheat`s recipe!

2 jam Swiss rolls
1 wine glass of sherry
strawberries
blueberries
1 carton of extra special bourbon vanilla custard
1 carton ofdouble cream
more red and blue fruits to decorate
1 raspberry jelly

Line a trifle dish with swiss roll circles completely saturatewith sherry- this is real nanna material. Top with fruit and the jelly solution and put in the fridge until wobbly. Top with custard and lightly whipped cream. Pile on top more red and blue fruits and pop in the fridge until the party. Serve with more single cream and a flake if you`re feeling skinny!!

Happy happy Jubilee , spend it with your sweetheart or your Nanna . xxx

Dr Sunshine

It has been glorious this weekend, so sizzlingly hot it took me right back to the Summer of 76 when I wore a little Heidi dress and bunches in my hair and rode my Chippy bike down to 33 Tudor road where my Mum was waiting for me in her flared white jeans with a bottle of cream soda and a honey sandwich. Now my Mum Joey was the street hottie we went to collect our family allowance from the post office one day and the postmaster said to her "tell your Mummy she can get two weeks money next week for the bank holiday." To which she replied "I am the Mummy!"

My Mum hates cooking, she was the Yorkshire equivalent of Ab fab way before their time. So Dubbonnet and lemonade in hand she would cook us some experimental dinners which we thought were adorable if a  inedible. In 1976 there was a drought and a potato shortage so she used to make us parsnip chips which were amazing dipped in garlic mayonnaise.One day she gave us some black fishy stuff on toast for breakfast and when I wrote at school in my daily diary I had had caviar for breakfast I got the ruler for telling lies. Little did Mrs McNally know my Mum was fabulous.Like a lioness she came into school to sort the old sturgeon out and when I looked up from the carpet at storytime and saw her smiling face there it was like Christmas everyday at 3pm.


Joeys 70s breakfast
1 stack of white buttered toast crusts removed
1 jar of caviar
Toast the bread butter it and top with caviar.
Honey biscuits
2 digestive biscuits
honey
buttercream icing
smarties

Sandwich the biscuits together with honey, top with buttercream and smarties.

Has anyone  ever heard of such a decadent way to start the day? At 33 Tudor Road it was just another fiesta with our sweetheart darling Mum Joey.

Life is beautiful

It always seems that I`m slipping on the  banana skin that is life, I am frequently late and this annoys people - I even annoy myself with the certain greatness to my lateness. I am extremely untidy and just a little bit fat! But hey ho - I also have a heart as big as a lion, I am a friend for life if you get me and I have three fabulous bambinos and a big gorgeous husband who hasn`t left me yet! So on a sunny day like today even if you`ve had a disaster or things haven`t gone your way be grateful for all you do have. Failing that follow my recipe below.


Thursday pick me up surprise.

Take 2 bottles of chilled Prosecco (or prozaco as we call it in my house)

Drink them!

Hic!

Cheese and yoghurt tart

My brother Jamie was born when I was four and I must say he has filled all of our lives with utter sunshine ever since whenever we are lucky enough to be with him. He was a winner from the start, all the nursery nurses and every little girl he met just melted in his company and now he is a big man and a big boss and he has a beautiful wife and two little princesses who adore him just the same as we all do.When he was born Auntie Wendy came to stay. "Windy Wendy" to her friends because she was a vegetarian and  trumped alot(!)we had never met one of those people before who ate brown bread. So although Jamie brought the golden times with him,when Wendy was cooking and our mum was in hospital we missed her very much but we tasted this tart and loved it.

Wholemeal pastry-
6oz brown flour
3oz lard/butter
salt
water

1 small pot of natural yoghurt
4oz grated edam cheese
1/2 tomato

Make the pastry and line a flan tin and bake blind for 10 mins.
Pour the yoghurt and cheese into the case and put a tomato in the middle, bake in a medium oven until firm and set. This sounds revolting but is sharp and tangy and a little bit weird. I love it and remember how Windy Wendy looked after us when Jamie was born and  how she still looks after us 37 years later.
Serve this with a bean salad and preferably a crazy Aunt , the nuttier the better.xxx

The fallowfield penthouse

When I was a student in Manchester I lived with a lovely friend Carol over the top of a Turkish restaurant in Fallowfield. She taught me how to make Chicken and peaches which sounds strange but tastes delicious. We have both grown up and married our Prince Charmings and live in the Lakes and Devon  respectively with our gorgeous families. I think my greatest gift is my capacity to appreciate all the luck and love , life has bestowed on me, this overwhelming sense of gratitude puts a skip in my step and a twinkle in my eye everyday . And it is because of the times when I had very little and we lived in a grotty flat eating chicken and peaches and drinking moscato spumante out of mugs that i cherish my life today and all the people who fill my days with friendship and Peace.

Chicken in peaches

A pack of boneless chicken thighs skinned and chopped
1/2 tin of peaches
1 chicken stock cube
2 cloves of garlic
1 onion diced
1 knob of butter
1/2 glass of white wine or sherry
pinch of sugar
salt and pepper

Fry the onion , garlic and chicken in the butter until golden. Add the peaches and a little of the juice the stock cube and wine and reduce down for 20 mins. Taste and season and add more juice or water to make a sauce. A sliced fiery fresh chilli just before serving is a welcome addition.
Serve with a big mug of wine and a very good old friend. Perfect.

Why does everyone in my house hate liver?

I don`t mind really , it`s just like when I was at school at St.Helen`s primary school, Wheathampstead, Herts. I was in love with Christopher Baines. We used to go to Youth club together and sit in a big black leather chair  in the dark TV room and snuggle up. He bought me a beautiful brooch and used to give me his liver at lunchtimes and he said he`d love me forever. Wow! Our romance was short lived but the cuddles at youth club and him giving me his unwanted lunchtime liver rations will warm my heart for a lifetime!

In our house I am a lone liver lover too. Red blooded and full of vitamins and iron - alas this nugget eating generation don`t know that offal`s not awful.

This one`s for Christopher Baines whenever I hear "Gino" by Dexys midnight runners I think of you.


1 pack of lambs liver (calves liver if you`re rich)
1 knob of butter
2 cloves of garlic
1/2 glass white wine
salt and pepper
1 onion sliced
1 Oxo cube
pinch of sugar
pinch of herbs

Fry the onion in the butter , add the garlic and the liver and fry til browned. Add the wine and Oxo sugar and herbs and cook until reduced and the liver is pink inside. Season and serve with mashed potatoes and cabbage.
Drink the other 1/2 glass of wine and dream about that special person who first stole your heart away even though you hadn`t reached double digits! Big love to Bainsey.xx

Sunday blues

When the weekend is nearly over and you get a little pang of "I don`t want to go to work" get yourself a big bowl of this and you will soon be looking forward to another great week. Happiness is an act of will , or quite simply a choice. Some people choose to exist...I choose to LIVE! (I think my old mate Oscar wilde said that first) but he was so right.

Sunday night chilli willy

500g best mince
olive oil, a slug of,
4 fat cloves of garlic
tube of tomato puree
fresh herbs chopped
2 large onions sliced
a little sugar
2 tins plum tomatoes
2 red chillis sliced
1tbs crushed dried chillis
more chilli sauce if you are feeling hot
1 glass red wine
1 slug sherry
1 chorizo sausage sliced and fried
2 tins of kidney beans drained
1 stick of celery
1 carrot diced
butter

Fry the onions in the oil with the crushed garlic, celery and carrot and fresh chillis. Add the beef and brown.Add as much tomato puree as you dare and cook out for 10 mins until it caramelises.Then add the tomatoes, a little sugar crushed chillis and chilli sauce if required.Add the wine and sherry and a splash of cream if you have it and simmer for 35 mins until silky and cooked. Add the kidney beans and fresh herbs 15 mins before serving.Add salt, pepper and more chillis if not hot enough. Serve with a massive blob of hummus, a spoon of greek yoghurt, grated mature cheddar and a jacket potato with a knob of butter. Heaven!

Have a fabulous week. Remember it is a choice and although we may not like everyone we meet, we should still try to Love them as what goes around comes around and we all want to be loved today and everyday.

Thursday is the new Friday

I used to live in York and before I had children I lived in a little cottage in the middle of my hometown and Thursdays were always a big night out. These days I`m rushing around chasing my tail , trying to cook and bring up my little family and the rush of excitement when Thursday came around has eluded me I`m afraid. I used to cycle to work(no cellulite then ha ha) and meet my truelove on the corner of Stonegate and nip into a pub for a big glass of wine to celebrate that the weekend was just around the corner. Then we`d toddle off to The York Tandoori for  the most amazing King prawn bhuna.Next we would be "Aunt sally and Worzel" in the Castle Howard Ox`s pub quiz and after winning the snowball question we would tipsily skip home to watch "Question time". O what a lovely little life and at the time I thought the days of wine and poppadoms would last forever.

I do still watch "Question time"with my truelove who still looks like Worzel Gummidge and we share a cider in front of the fire and I don`t take any of this wonderful life for granted. Thursday is still practically the weekend so we`ll stay up late tonight and cherish our time together.

Baked potatoes for snuggly Thursdays

2 large baking potatoes
4 rashers of bacon grilled to a crisp
butter
single cream
wholegrain mustard
mature cheddar/parmesan grated
Flat leafed parsley

I microwave the poatoes for 10 mins and then put them on the top shelf of the hottest oven to bake for 30 mins. When cooked through, halve and scoop out the insides and mash in a bowl with lots of sea salt pepper , butter and a splash of single cream.Add the grated cheeses , bacon, flat leafed parsley and 1tsp of mustard. Pile back into the skins and heat in a hot oven until bubbling hot.

Serve with a cold beer and a hot husband!