is now a denizen of the Sanatorium. In the confines of his padded cell of solitude, devoid of Lucifers Dream Box, he is alone with his literature and the thoughts in his head. God help him.

with aid of facebook here is his Waffle from his cell

woke up on floor of my padded cell this morning. Fed more drugs. Fell asleep in me cornflakes and nearly drowned. Fed more drugs. Fell asleep in me lunch. Meat chunks and hot gravy stuck to me bubbling, blistering face. Fed more drugs. Fell asleep during afternoon coffee. A large ice pack is now sitting heavily on my naked groin (yea, I know its not the mental picture you want to be haunted by). That doctors twisting me melon man.

Ray, did you know that 'real time' tracking device thats embedded in ya head"
"Yea man"
"Well, the receiver is planted in 'Doctor' Barbies teeth and all the incoming transmissions are bounced off her teeth,hitting the orbital satellites and bounced back to 'them' who live in the woods. That'd how they know my friend"
"Ya f@ckin kidding man?"
"Straight up Ray"

The thing is about 'Doctor' Barbie is that she looks like she should be running around Burger King in a pretty party frock, waving a ballon with a belly full of chicken nuggets and birthday cake, waiting for mummy to come and collect her, skipping home with her party box.

"F@ck man, I knew it"

Oh dear, I knew I should have kept my mouth shut.

Editors note: so read on and find out about Ray

Ray has accosted me as his new best friend. My seclusive stroll of self-awareness through the gardens of the Sanatorium during my roaming pass has been violated by the company of Ray. Everytime I am released from my padded cell he is loitering somewhere along the corridor.."You going for a smoke Clusk?"

Ray trusts no one. Everybody is furtive. The whole of life is a conspiracy instigated by 'them', those faceless figures who live in the woods. He whispers in a guarded tone "in case they hear us"
"Do you know what they do? When ya born yea ' they' implant a tracker in ya head yea. 'They' know exactly where you are, what ya thinking and what ya saying. And if 'they' dont like it ya in deep shit man. You'll just disappear. Its true man. Its a New World Order".

We are on the same cocktails of drugs, 32 pills a day, including Chlordiazepoxide which enhances the calming effect of a certain brain chemical, which causes muscles to relax, reduces anxiety and induces sleep, a long, deep, uninterrupted sleep, that can befall you at any time of the day. Why?

Me? Cause the doctor doesn't like me and just wants to feed her sadism by seeing me comatosed, dribbling, in a foetal position on the padded floor.

Ray? Cause he's off his f@ckin head.

Might invite him to The Peel, if he ever gets out. He'll fit in just dandy, me thinks.

A patient of the Sanatorium who has decided I'm his new best friend and together he wants us to bring down the New World Order then fly away in a spaceship and bring peace across the far reaches of the universe. I want to come home.

Editors note andy is in hostipal having his annual holiday it would be cheap on the NHS to send him to Portugal to sit in the sun but it aint going to happen

'A long stay denizen of the Sanatorium', The last meal request before the cockcrows and the golden sunrise illuminates the color of faded limes along the green mile.

Good evening beautiful people

Tonight I find myself home alone, a privilege and a pleasure I am very rarely afforded.  On the eve of my imminent exclusion from the general populace, a long stay denizen of the Infirmary, though previous experiences would warrant the title of 'A long stay denizen of the Sanatorium', I have put my affairs in order. Priority was given as follows;

1)  The Sky+ has been cleaned up and the following weeks TV schedule has been programmed and series linked

2)  The larder has had a stock-take and replenished accordingly.

3)  Fridge and freezer have been checked and all my fresh homemade meals have been frozen, dated and labelled, along with instructions.

4)  The microwave has been removed and hidden under the stairs.

5)  Two dozen books have been chosen and packed.

6)  Supply of tobacco has been rationed.

7)  All things deemed as 'Chocolate Crisply Crunchelies' have been bagged.

8)  Ipod fully charged and 'The Archers Omnibus' podcasts have been downloaded (Yea, OK..............I know)


9)  My lovely newly purchased hooded bunny rabbit dressing gown with floppy bunny ears and matching slippers, has been packed.

10) My Last Will and Testament has been reexamined and revised. The charming, delectable and divine Miss Joolz Greenlees will acquire my Slow Cooker and all my handwritten recipe books. All my beloved 'Crag Rats' will each recieve an item of Pen-y-ghent malodorous bog stained clothing. Emu will inherit my 'Dregs Session' bar stool. The housemates will be left with my cat...and my debts.

I feel like the condemned man, deliberating over his last meal request before the cockcrows and the golden sunrise illuminates the color of faded limes along the green mile. I have been brooding over this great decision all day. I covet a mighty feast before I am forced fed a diet of soggy, floppy toast, rehydrated powdered potato, undercooked or 'boiled to death' veg and an array of gravy ponds with chunks of dead animal meat and fats embedded in it's coagulated surface, often disguised on the menu under the illustrious and tempting titles Beef Bourguignon, Chicken Chassuer, Pork & Apple, Lamb Casserole and so on.

Well, I have finally made my decision.

I will shortly be gorging on the biggest, fattest Doner Kebab this town has to offer. I want it loaded with strips of succulent, self-basted spit-roasted spiced lamb, large helpings of raw onion, tomato, cucumber and lettuce and topped with lashings of mint yoghurt and hot chilli sauces, all wrapped up in a huge warm naan bread. A feast of behemothic proportions, a feast fit to quell the pains of famishment of the ravenous vagabond. There will be no dining etiquette. There will be no guests. Just me, me boxers ('CAUSE I CAN), me 'curry top' (we've all got one, haven't we?) me beer and me cat.

Another couple of beers then one shall make that call...better keep my pants on till the delivery guy has been.


Love, peace and catch you all on the otherside people

Sleep well and stay safe............Cluski

My inane 'hop, skip and jump' disposition of the day has been subjugated, quelled by the grotesque pantomime that is played out on a daily basis in every 'Primarni' store across the land. The wails of the maddening banshees pierce my senses, wailing that warns of an impending death.

Good day beautiful people

Another glorious Spring day and my self-diagnosed winter-based Seasonal Affective Disorder is screaming from the Bastille, imprisoned in the bleak disorder and throes of the winter just passed.  My inane 'hop, skip and jump' disposition of the day has been subjugated, quelled by the grotesque pantomime that is played out on a daily basis in every 'Primarni' store across the land. After my minor role in today's matinee, I realised I'm old and my Bohemian style and character has been traduced by Mr Primarni.



'Primarni' (a pseudonym of Primark) is a very low cost fashion retailer and a purchase of necessity, of economical sense, invited me into this afternoons matinee. With the imminent hospital confinement looming, I needed to purchase;

A:  a dressing gown

B:  a pair of slippers

C:  pyjamas

The unmovable staining the 'Dith' treatment will leave on the garments means they will all be disposed of on discharge, so I was not prepared to pay dear for any of these purchases. The local 'Primarni' was the only option. On entering the store I am instantly confronted with the bedlam that is the womens section. The more ordered and serene mens floor is accessible via the stairs, climbing high on the horizon line across this raging sea of anarchy.  I stop at the door. Less than confident that my navigational skills has found find the safest and expeditious route to the beckoning stairs, I am carried away in the crush, losing my footing on the clothing that have been violently rip from the rails and left scattered across the floor, in the death throes of their finest hour. The wails of the maddening banshees pierced my senses, wailing that warns of an impending death.

"IF SHE PICKS UP THAT LAST SIZE 10 FROCK SHE'S GOING DOWN"

"WHAT? YEA, I KNOW I'M A 12 BUT IT'S ONLY THURSDAY AND I'VE GOT TWO DAYS TILL SATURDAY TO DROP A SIZE. JUST HURRY UP WILL YA, GRAB IT"

I begin to hyperventilate.

I reach the stairs and take a seat on the eighth step till my breathing returns to normal. The bedlam below me is incessant and will have to be revisited or I could just sit here for the next 8 hours till closing time.

My breathing returns and I ascend the stairs to the mens floor. All is quiet and there is order as the predominantly male shoppers peruse the rails. I find the nightwear section and go straight for the dressing gowns. Now, this is when the realisation started sinking in. I don't own or would not contemplate purchasing a dressing gown to wear at home, that's what my slouchers are for. But I now find myself  'touching' the material for softness and warmth, checking the labels for the material information, humming and ahhing over the design and colour. I even try them on, luxuriating in their big, loving, soft and warm hug, exhaling a long affectionate sigh.

"WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING?"

Oops that was a big loud.

Didn't get any better when choosing the pyjamas and as for the slippers; I found myself shoeless and sockless parading down the aisles in a pair of  'Toasty Toes' slippers, a stupid 'look at me' expression sat on my smug face

Transaction complete,  I found myself back on the eighth step, paper shopping bag clutched tightly to my side pondering whether I should sit here, safe and protected, till closing time.

"B@LL@X.........I WANT A SMOKE AND I'M HUNGRY"

Oops, too loud again.

"If I time it right, I could probably bounce of the manic heads of the banshees and make that final dive that will propel me through the open doors leaving an abrupt body sprawled at the feet of the passing street traffic, battered and bruised, clutching a 'Primarni' paper shopping bag...WHERE'S THE WEIRD LITTLE XBOX KID WHEN YOU NEED HIM? HE COULD SAFELY NAVIGATE ME THROUGH THIS THUNDERDOME, THIS GLADIATORIAL ARENA. HE BRINGS HELLFIRE AND DAMNATION DOWN ON THE ZOMBIE FLESH EATERS FOR GOD'S SAKE. HE COULD HANDLE THIS".

Damn, too loud again.

I bounced off the heads.

This, my friends, has been a true account of my day and I am now slouching on the couch, my cuts and grazes dressed in a variety of different sized Band-Aids, smelling of TCP, watching Spartacus: Gods Of The Arena, with a much needed beer in my hand.


Love, peace and please forgive my retail indiscretions  (but I did see a comfortable looking cardigan and a pair of practical summer slip-ons whilst passing the British Home Stores window


                                                                   Cluski

Greetings from the Northern Hemisphere my friends and as I bask in the sunlight, midway between the vernal equinox and the summer solstice, the glory of the seasons rebirth, renewal and regrowth is a feast for my senses.............What the hell am I going on about?

Greetings from the Northern Hemisphere my friends and as I bask in the sunlight, midway between the vernal equinox and the summer solstice, the glory of the seasons rebirth, renewal and regrowth is a feast for my senses.............What the hell am I going on about?

Good day people on this beautiful Spring day.

I am sorry to announce, that due to the forthcoming hospital confinement and no internet access, this blog will be on vacation for 3-4 weeks from Sunday 27th March.

I suffer from psoriasis, a skin complaint, that a requires hospitalisation every now and again for intense treatment that cannot be administered at home. Purely routine, but a long process of control and confinement. So, what do I have to look forward to? Long, very long, days of reading, writing, relaxing, sleeping and not forgetting the 4 meals a day with intervening scatterings of crisps, chocolate and sweets.

You are given a daily menu to choose the following days meals but no matter what you choose, for a hot lunch and dinner, you will always end up with a stew.  Example;

LUNCH: Beef stew with creamed potatoes and seasonal veg 

TRANSLATION: a pond of tiny chunks of meat and gravy,  2 ice-cream scoops of rehydrated powdered potato and crunchy undercooked mixed veg


DINNER: Steak n Kidney pie, chipped potatoes and seasonal veg 

TRANSLATION: THE SAME BLOODY BEEF STEW YOU HAD AT LUNCHTIME BUT WITH A SQUARE PIECE OF PUFF PASTRY SITTING ON TOP OF A POND OF TINY CHUNKS OF MEAT AND GRAVY.....about 7 cold and hard chips and.....THE SAME BLOODY CRUNCHY UNDERCOOKED MIXED VEG YOU HAD AT LUNCHTIME.

One shall be missing his homecooked food to the point of tears within 48 hours

Anyhows, cauliflower is bang in season right now, so in anticipation of the fellow housemates eating crap for the next month, I have cooked and frozen a beautiful Cauliflower Cheese Soup, along with a slow-cooked Piri Piri Chicken, 2 more large Cottage Pies, a large Beef and Guiness Pie and an assortment of cook-in-sauces (not hard, defrost, then just add meat)

Give this Cauliflower Cheese Soup a go, but please note;  if you intend to freeze DO NOT ADD THE CHEESE. Add the cheese when you defrost and reheat it. Enjoy.

Cauliflower Cheese Soup

knob of butter
1 large onion, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, peeled and finely chopped
1 large cauliflower (about 900g/2lb), leaves trimmed and cut into florets
1 large potato, peeled and cut into chunks
700ml vegetable stock (I use swiss vegetable bouillon powder)
400ml milk
100g mature cheddar, grated

Heat the butter in a large saucepan. Tip in the onion and cook until softened, about 5 mins, stirring often. Add the garlic and cook for a further couple of minutes. Add the cauliflower, potato, stock, milk and seasoning. Bring to the boil, then reduce the heat and leave to simmer for about 30 mins until the cauliflower is soft and the potato almost collapsing.

Whizz in a food processor or crush with a potato masher until you get a creamy, thick soup. Add more milk if you prefer a thinner soup. Freeze now, if desired. If not freezing, return to the pan, warm through, add the grated cheese and stir till melted into the soup. You can make ahead up to 2 days in advance, cool, cover and leave in the fridge until needed, or freeze for up to 1 month.


Love, peace and  freedom beautiful people


                                               Cluski

Liberation from this repressive cocoon is not forthcoming. It has the seductive power to quell any physical attempt to break free. That's another Cardinal Sin to cross off the 'to do' list

Greetings from the confines of  the duvet. Liberation from this repressive cocoon is not forthcoming. It has the seductive power to quell any physical attempt to break free....I have managed to release one leg which is left dangling, without purpose, over the side of the bed.

It has been a frenetic weekend of gigs, debauchery and gluttony (that's another Cardinal Sin to cross off the 'to do' list) which has left me wandering around 'Hangover Alley', beaten and penniless. OK, I might be overstating one's current state of being but today is officially 'Detox Sunday'. A day when a constant supply of still water will take precedence over food....once I've devoured the leftover Jerk Pork, downed my eighth cup of strong black coffee and had my nicotine hit.  (see 'There's only one way of life and that's your own. Anticipating the post gig munchies attack - Blackened Chicken and Jerk Pork' post)



Now, if only I had the strength and will to escape this bloody cocoon, my dangling leg is getting cold.

Love, peace and happy Detox Day

                                      Cluski

Engulfing concrete basking in the gold and yellow of an exquisite solar day. "Feel the force weird little Xbox kid. The righteous one will prevail".

Good day beautiful people. How glorious a greeting the sun gives the mountains!

The sun sits high and naked in the blue sky and the usual greyness of my hometown is transformed, the engulfing concrete basks in the gold and yellow of an exquisite solar day. Me thinks an early evening stroll through the valleys is beckoning after a dinner of Texas pulled pork, rosemary and garlic potato wedges and slaw.

Anyhows, this weeks poll result was a 50/50 split. So, should I honour the weird little Xbox kids menu request for next week to the disservice of all the other fellow housemates...and myself'? We came to a deal. Holding the casting vote, I agreed to toss a coin. 


"Oh Dear"

"Best of 3?"

"I think not young man, but I will reluctantly permit ONE pasta dish to deface this weeks dinner table. Make your choice"

My humanity knows no boundaries

"HOW CAN I? ITS ALL PASTA AND CHEESE, MY FAVOURITES"

 "Feel the force weird  little Xbox kid. The righteous one will prevail"

The reverberation of a slammed door succeeded the grunts and heavy ascending footsteps.


Love, peace and enjoy the respite from ya negative seasonal affective disorder


                                                                                         Cluski















 

A weekend across the border, the cream of the Atlantic and if it's wearing a furry coat - THROW IT AWAY

Good day beautiful people. Had a wonderful weekend away across the border with the wider family to celebrate a milestone birthday.

When I travel back home from these infrequent large family gatherings and contemplate the chronology of our entwined lives, their long absence both physically and consciously is realised. My dear cousins are a lot more muted in silver colour  and their children are no longer the little snotty toddlers I remember. They are all unrecognizable in their little adult bodies as the girls consume bottles of Blue Wicked, wine and vodka's and the boys, with the 5 O'clock shadows, knock back the beers. Reintroductions are required.  My aunties and uncles are all holding free bus passes and dressed for warmth and comfort. I, obviously, have not aged.

My brother and sister-in-law made the journey from Portugal, where they now reside, and it's always a pleasure to share a beer or ten with them. As always, they arrived with gifts for me and the 1.5kg bag of 'Flor de Sal' and the big bag of dried piri piri chillies were gladly received.

'Flor de Sal' translates to 'Flower of Salt' and is the cream of the Atlantic. The flor de sal is the result of the work of nature obtained by natural evaporation of Atlantic Ocean water that enters the salt pans through the Natural Marine Reserve of the "Ria Formosa" on the southern coast of Portugal. The clusters of crystals that float on the surface (the rosy coloured slices indicates the presence of quality carotene) is collected by hand using wooden rakes (every two weeks) that skim the surface of the salt pan to collect the thin layer of salt "flower" that forms on top of the water as the water evaporates. It is then put in perforated boxes to drain and dry, and then to storage. After it is boxed without any way of changing its content, the consumer obtains a product 100% pure. Historical research shows that it has been done like this for over 4000 years. Flor de sal is prized for its small grains, lightly crunchy texture and balanced, briny flavor and has been certified by worldwide environmental organizations to be free of the industrial contaminants sometimes found in mechanically harvested sea salt. It is a much prized and sought after sea salt throughout the world.

How can one be so passionate and excited by sea salt?.......it's all rock n roll to me.

The piri piri chillies will be used to make chilli oil which will be used to pan fry Potuguese Bifana (hot pork sandwiches) and Prego (hot steak sandwiches) and piri piri marinades for chicken.









Anyhows, I have done a full stock-take of the spice and herb shelf in the larder and made a shopping list for tomorrow. A day of making spice rubs and marinades for meat and fish is on the cards. Will leave you the recipes tomorrow.

Love, peace and when staying with an elderly relative make sure you go through their fridge and larder and dispose of any produce that smells, has turned green and is sitting in a furry coat as well as anything that has a 'use by date' of 2004.

                                                                 Cluski

am realy sry i shudve askD :((' ....some kind of obscenity in an incoherent language. Boiled Bacon recipe

 Lunch at Cafe Grumpy.

Do you think I should invest in a personal fridge freezer with a keypad security lock? The reason I ask is because last night I made boiled bacon, roast potatoes and cauliflower cheese for dinner and today I was looking forward to the leftover bacon for lunch with cheese, mustard, pickled onions and crusty bread. What I got was a boiled bacon lunch without the bacon.

The housemate came bouncing in, muttered some kind of greeting, dumped her bag and keys on the table and marched with purpose into the kitchen. The banging of the cupboard doors, the milk bottles rattling against each other as the fridge door swung open and the muffled sound of things being moved about in the larder indicated that a ravenous forage for food had ensued. The bedlam ceased, proceeded with the sound of heavy footsteps ascending the stairs.

Twenty minutes later, she bounced back into the front room with a change of outfit and a newly painted face. She picked up her bag and keys and muffled some kind of farewell. To be honest with you, as a man of considerable years I find it easier to decipher her 'txtspk' than her incoherent language..LOL.

An empty house = a quiet lunch and the lunch time news. I laid a large plate with a slab of cheddar, a slab of Brie, a dollop of mustard, a handful of silverskin pickled onions, a buttered sliced baguette with a freshly brewed pot of Yorkshire Tea on the side. Where's the cold thick slices of boiled bacon? The ravenous forage...a phone call had to be made.

"Hello"

"Hiya, it's only me" 
 
"What's up?"

"What did you have for lunch when you came home earlier?"

"Nothing, we're having lunch at Olivia's, why?"

"I had some leftover bacon from last nights dinner in the fridge, it's disappeared"

"Oh, the meat that was wrapped in foil?"

"Yea"

"Didn't know you wanted it, so I took it. Sorry, I should have asked"

"Took it?"

"Well, me and the girl's are having lunch at Olivia's, so we decided that everybody bring food but not tell each other what they're bringing and see what we end up with for lunch. Olivia is providing the wine"

I hung up. Five minutes later I received a text message;

'am realy sry i shudve askD :(('

I muffled some kind of obscenity in an incoherent language

If you fancy hot boiled bacon for dinner and, if your lucky enough, the cold leftovers for the following days lunch then here's the recipe.

Boiled Bacon

1.4-1.8kg/3-4lb piece of gammon or hock bacon

Stock

2 bay leaves

3 cloves

5 black peppercorns

2 onions, roughly chopped

3 carrots, roughly chopped

5 sticks celery, roughly chopped

Check the weight of the joint before throwing away the plastic covering. The cooking time will be 25 minutes per 445g/1lb plus 25 minutes. Soak the joint in cold water for a couple of hours to remove any excess salt; alternatively, place it in a large pan, cover with cold water and slowly bring to the boil, then discard the water.

Cover the bacon with fresh cold water and add the rest of the ingredients for the stock. Bring slowly to the boil. Skim the surface when needed and cover with a lid . Calculate the cooking time from this point and reduce to a gentle simmer.

When cooked, remove the joint to keep warm. Sieve the stock into a clean pan, catching all the veg and spices in the sieve. Skim the stock, allow to cool and freeze - it's great for soups and stews.

Love, peace and lock up ya fridge

                                 
                                        Cluski

A narrowboat, a cat , some chickens and a potters wheel. Best ever Tuna Melt

Good day people. After a momentous and savage battle against influenza, I am now back to full health (well, as healthy as a middle-aged, nicotine and alcohol consumer can expect to be) and that means back to work. It has took many years of employment to conclude that its not really for me. I want to buy and live on a narrowboat, with my cat........ and some chickens....and my potters wheel. 

Long hot summer days meandering the waterways at a leisurely 3mph, foraging the local woods and hedgerows for their surplus of wild foods; fungi, Spring shoots, Summer flowers, Autumn berries, The countryside will be an extension to my larder. The fruit will be made into jams and the Sloe berries will be submerged in gin to work their magic. Sitting on the deck with a book and a glass of wine, surrounded by the huge communal garden reflecting in the stillness of the water, I would display my merchandise; freshly laid eggs, homemade jams and chutneys, bottles of homemade Sloe Gin, and exclusive handmade pottery for the passing traffic along the tow path to peruse and purchase. I wouldn't earn much, but I wouldn't be spending much either.

In my rural isolation, the dawn chorus will gently rouse me from deep sleep. The chopped wood will be glowing red in the stove as the kettle comes to the boil and the gathered breakfast eggs gently fry away as butter melts over hot toast. On cold, wet winter evenings my cat and I will slouch in slumber by the fireside as Mother Nature orchestrates the pleasing and harmonious music of wind and rainfall. My innately lazy self would be very much at home in this enviroment.

£12.95 savings sit in my piggy bank eagerly awaiting the company of more coinage...£87,487.05 to be precise...to finance my dream, so until it is realised I will continue to be provoked, like an irritable, tranquilized bear, at stupid o'clock by a bloody annoying, obstreperous electronic alarm clock...6 days a bloody week. I will continue to offer my labor to an ungrateful employer in exchange for a small recompense. I will continue to walk these overcrowded and noisy streets of concrete and grey. 

All donations kindly accepted and made payable to..........

Anyhows, just the wierd little Xbox kid and myself at home for dinner tonight, so I will be making a quick, easy and delicious tuna melt and serving it with a dressed green salad. This is a lovely, fresh dish. Give it a go.

Best Ever Tuna Melt

2 cans tuna in spring water, drained

1/4 cup mayonnaise

1/4 cup finely chopped celery

1 1/2 tablespoons finely chopped onion

1 tablespoon chopped parsley

3/4 teaspoon red wine vinegar

1 pinch salt

1 pinch freshly ground black pepper

4 slices seedless rye or bloomer bread

8 slices ripe tomato

8-10 slices Monterrey Jack or Swiss cheese

paprika, for garnish

Preheat the grill. 

In a bowl, mix the tuna, mayonnaise, celery, onion, parsley, and vinegar. Season with salt and pepper.

Place the rye bread slices on a baking sheet, and grill for 1 minute, until lightly toasted. Remove from heat, and spread with the tuna salad. Place 1 cheese slice over the tuna salad on each piece of bread, layer with 2 tomato slices, and top with another cheese slice, cut in half to sit on both tomato slices, if necessary.

Return layered bread to the grill, and grill for 3 to 5 minutes, until cheese is melted.

Me, Gloria and Mary sat on a roof eating cottage pie

Gloria

I'm still here and it's stupid o'clock. My third day confined to my sick bed and after a night of high fever inducing delirious dreams with an angel at my head and the devil at my feet I feel like Ebenezer Scrooge as he awoke on Christmas morning, relieved that he made it through the night. I realise I'm really missing my food. Sometime during the night, between being pursued through Narnia by the armies of the White Witch and finding myself in a hall of mirrors with the mad guy from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,  I was sat in the company of Gloria Swanson and Mary Pickford. We were tucking into a cottage pie, red cabbage, pickled onions and crusty bread on the roof of The Merril Department Store...Don't ask, I have absolutely no idea.

Mary

Anyhows, I've cooked a lot of cottage pies, varying the ingredients and quantities looking for a perfect balance of taste and texture. I think I've found it with this version. It has become the housemate's favourite comfort dish. There is enough here to feed 8-10 people, but I alway's make two dishes..one for dinner, one to freeze. Give it a go, I'm confident it will become one of your 'keepers'

 COTTAGE PIE

3 tbsp olive oil
1kg/2lb lean beef mince
2 onions, finely chopped
3 carrots, chopped
3 celery sticks, chopped
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
3 tbsp plain flour
1 tbsp tomato puree
850ml/1 1/2 pints beef stock (I use Bovril stock cubes for their deep meaty flavour)
a dash of gravy browning, about a 1/4 tsp
4 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
few thyme sprigs
2 bay leaves


FOR THE MASH
2.2kg/5lb Maris Piper potatoes, peeled and chopped
1 cauliflower, broken into florets (optional)
225ml/8fl oz milk
25g/1oz butter
200g/7oz strong cheddar cheese, grated (more if you want)
freshly grated nutmeg


Heat 1 tbsp oil in a large saucepan and fry the mince until browned - you may need to do this in batches. Set aside in a colander to drain any fat as it browns. Put the rest of the oil into the pan, add the vegetables and cook on a gentle heat until soft, about 20 mins. Add the garlic, flour and tomato purée, increase the heat and cook for a few mins, then return the beef to the pan. Add the stock, gravy browning,Worcestershire sauce and herbs. Bring to a simmer and cook, uncovered, for 45 mins. By this time the gravy should be thick and coating the meat. Check after about 30 mins - if a lot of liquid remains, increase the heat slightly to reduce the gravy a little. Taste and season well but go careful on the salt as the Bovril stock is quite salty, then discard the bay leaves and thyme stalks.

Meanwhile, make the mash.  Either steam the potatoes (my preference) or place the potatoes in a large saucepan in salted cold water, bring to the boil and simmer until tender. Drain well, then allow to steam-dry for a few mins. Mash well with the milk, butter, and three-quarters of the cheese, then season with the nutmeg and some salt and pepper.

TIP: I like to add extra veg, so I usually steam a whole cauliflower, broken into florets, and add them to the potatoes before mashing together.

Spoon meat into 2 ovenproof dishes. To stop the mash sinking into the filling, allow the meat to cool before topping with the mashed potato. Spoon on the mash to cover. Sprinkle on the remaining cheese. If eating straight away, heat oven to 220C/200C fan/gas 7 and cook for 25-30 mins, or until the topping is golden. Or follow the steps (below) to freeze.

Freezing
Make sure the pie is completely cold, then cover it well with cling film and freeze. Always freeze the pie on the day that you make it. Defrost in the fridge overnight, then cook as per the recipe. Alternatively, to cook from frozen, heat oven to 180C/160C fan/gas 4, cover with foil and cook for 1½ hrs. Increase oven to 220C/200C fan/gas 7, uncover and cook for 20 mins more, until golden and bubbling.

I survived the first 24. 100 trillion murdered cells.

Well my friends, I survived the first 24 but the battle with the pesky RNA viruses goes on.  In a state of murderous frenzy they continue their merciless onslaught on the 100 trillion cells, the functional units that give me life. I feel I've got about 300 left.  The consumption will soon draw the last breath, but before delirium joins me under the duvet and I still have the capacity to 'hear' your critical thoughts,  please allow me to retort;

No, I am not exaggerating

No, it's not a cold. It's influenza

YES, I AM A MAN

The housemates have been informed that the kitchen is officialy closed today. A rubbish bag full of take-away boxes and trays will greet the masses as they gather to lament my death, of that I have no doubt.

Will have to leave a note for them to take the bag to the outside bin. With all the burning candles and shrines that the masses will bring to the vigil,  it could be a fire hazard.

Love, peace and farewell

                       Cluski

What the hell is a 'red day' and a 'green day'?, Wierd little Xbox kid

What the hell is a 'red day' and a 'green day'? One of the female housemates has decided to diet, only she knows why, and her daily consumption and portion size of food types are dictated by what 'colour' day it is. So, last night the fellow housemates and I tucked into a bowl of creamy buttermilk mashed potato and an oven tray of thickly sliced beef brisket, swimming in a Texas gravy of onions, cider vinegar, soy sauce, hickory liquid smoke, Worcestershire sauce, HP steak sauce and a couple of tablespoons of strong black coffee, slow cooked in a low oven for 4 hours. She had 2 Quorn bacon style rashers (a strange pink colour and looking like a pair of child's shoe insole), 2 Quorn burgers (Devoid of any moisture and smelling like dog food), topped with a poached egg and a side of three cherry tomatoes.

I sat opposite and, as she scanned the steaming bowl of mash and sizzling meat tray, I observed her eyes become more glazed and 'glassy'. We tucked in and there was melancholy in the way she ran her fork around the edge of her plate. She had not blinked for 5 minutes. One blink would bring the downfall of the watery glaze that would track it's way down her cheeks and land on the Quorn burger's. Might have been a good idea. She sought sanctuary in the front room, eating her 'dinner' off her lap in front of the TV. We all carried on devouring the buttermilk mash and brisket.

I didn't have the balls to ask her to wash-up.

Anyhow's, tonight there's only the weird little Xbox kid and myself at home for dinner, so a take-away is on the cards. The weird little Xbox kid 'lives' in the last room along a narrow corridor were the illumination of the landing light faintly kisses the back wall. The weird little Xbox kid is the youngest housemate and the only time we have social interaction with him is when he wants to watch Primeval, Doctor Who or Merlin on the big screen. I say social interaction but to be honest there is exiguous evidence of our physical presence as he stuffs his face with peperami sticks and washes them down with Capri-Sun, in silence, eyes glued to the TV.

As it is always served, tonights dinner will be placed on the floor outside his dooor, followed by an emphatic knock to rise above the sound of crackling gunfire and the screams of humans having their throats ripped out and inners consumed by blood thirsty zombies (a good game, I believe). There will be silence as the game is paused and it listen's, attentively, for the retreating footsteps. If you quietly step into the shadows on the landing you will hear the creaking of the hinges as it slowly opens the door. The long, pale arm of Nosferatu will grip the dinner plate and pull it through the small gap, banging the door shut before the bloodcurdling screams of the near decapitated and ripped apart victims recommence.

One day, I'm gonna sneak in and open his curtains and allow it's room be basked in glorious sunlight. That will synthesize it's Vitamin D and cure it's delayed sleep phase disorder. Weird little Xbox kid.

Finally, the female housemate who rooms next door to the weird little Xbox kid will be leaving for University this coming September, so if any of you are looking for lodgings, apply within....be it at your own peril.

Link; Hickory Liquid Smoke from Amazon.co.uk (in sterling)

Robert Smith meets Mrs Lovett over a left-over take-away

Rose from a deep cider-induced coma on Sunday morning and as I stumbled, semi-consciousness, towards the kettle I spotted this on the kitchen side.  As I predicted a few days earlier on writing the 'A beautiful day, the pièce de résistance of the Full English' piece, I followed the smell of a reheated take-away and found one of my fellow housemates  lounging on the settee with a plate of cheesy garlic bread slices.

Sophie spent a good few hours in front of the mirror the previous evening pulling ridiculous facial expressions as she painted her face with foundation, different shades of rouge and scratched pencils across her eyes and lips in an attempt to emulate that 'red carpet' look for the 'big girlie night out'.  Now, as she snuggles under the duvet with her cheesy garlic bread, her face looks like a cross between The Cure's Robert Smith and a panda, overnight her hair has changed from a structured style to a Tim Burtonesque Helena Bonham Carter 'Demon Barber of Fleet Street'  Mrs Lovet look.

"Had a restless night?  Bad dreams?", I innocently enquire,.....she responds with a grunt.

The Peel patrons 'Come Dine With Me', Rosemary Chicken with Tomato Sauce.

Good day people.  The third evening of The Peel patrons 'Come Dine With Me' took place last night, hosted by Joolz and Diesel.  By all accounts, it was an evening of much conviviality and absurdity (I've seen the video Stu n Kez ).

Loosely following the 'Come Dine With Me' format it was decided that all the hosts serve 2 mains, followed by a savoury/sweet dessert of crisps, Pringles and chocolate.  Joolz's menu was a tried and tested Red Thai Curry, served with flatbread, and a slow cooked Chicken Casserole, with all the veg trimmings.  It was the first time she had used a slow cooker and she made the classic mistake of not altering the amount of liquid to add to a slow cooked dish, hence she ended up with 'Chicken Casserole Soup'.  She blagged it.

Joolz and Diesel started the evening on -5 points due to a coat hanger malfunction that saw the guest's coats sitting in a heap on the floor (Dougie must have left his wallet in his coat pocket) but they managed to pull it back with the Red Thai Curry and flatbreads, copious amount of alcohol and the entertainment provided by the Xbox Kinect...again, I've seen the video.  Watching middle aged people leaping around the room, concentration etched across their face and in various stages of perspiration and breathlessness and the full middle aged pouch wobbling uncontrollably under a shirt is always an amusing sight to behold.  Kez busted some hot Beyonce moves on the Dance Central and walked away with the championship trophy....in ya face Louis Spence.

The first evening was hosted by Janet and Kez and their menu consisted of Lasagne and Braising Steak, with all the trimmings followed by the savoury/sweet cheesy puff and chocolate dessert.  The guests were greeted by Kes dressed in a romper suit, an adult baby grow.  He insisted it wasn't an 'adult baby' fetish thing...the jury is still out.

The second evening was hosted by Leslie and Stu and their menu was a rib-sticking Lobby (a meat and potato hash) and a Chicken Curry, followed by the now familiar dessert.  Stu's game plan was simple..in theory. Get the guest's sh*t faced on Absinthe, fill their bellies and the points are in the bag. You'd think.  Unfortunately, half-way into the evening, whacked on Absinthe and various other alcoholic beverages, Stu was found sprawled, in the crucified position, on his bed and emitting the sounds of deep, drunken sleep that bellowed throughout the house.

The final evenings host's are Grace and Dougie.  A 5 course meal has been promised...of breakfast cereals (skimmed and full fat milk will be offered).

The results will be in this March.

Anyhows, the weeks menu has been written and shopped for.  Tonight's dinner is Rosemary Chicken with Tomato Sauce.

Rosemary Chicken with Tomato Sauce.

1 tbsp olive oil
8 boneless, skinless chicken thighs
1 rosemary sprig, leaves finely chopped
1 red onion, finely sliced
3 garlic cloves, sliced
2 anchovy fillets, chopped
400g can chopped tomatoes
1 tbsp capers, drained
75ml red wine (optional)

Heat half the oil in a non-stick pan, then brown the chicken all over. Add half the chopped rosemary, stir to coat, then set aside on a plate.

In the same pan, heat the rest of the oil, then gently cook the onion for about 5 mins until soft. Add the garlic, anchovies and remaining rosemary, then fry for a few mins more until fragrant. Pour in the tomatoes and capers with the wine, if using, or 75ml water if not. Bring to the boil, then return the chicken pieces to the pan. Cover, then cook for 20 mins until the chicken is cooked through. Season and serve with a crisp green salad and crusty bread.

A beautiful day, the pièce de résistance of the Full English

What a beautiful day. The sun is shining and I've got the day off work.  Had a trip to the town market this morning in preparation for this weekends breakfasts. My fellow housemates insist on a fridge full of ingredients to knock up a Full English (though there will be at least one of them on left-over take-away).  So I've got a bag full of locally sourced bacon, eggs, tomatoes, sausages and the pièce de résistance....Black Pudding.

Black pudding is a true Lancashire delicacy that be can simmered, steamed, grilled or fried.  It is a type of sausage made by cooking pigs blood  with a blend of onion, pork fat, outmeal and secret flavourings until it is thick enough to congeal when cooled.  It is then encased in a length of intestine.  I always buy the rings and my preferred cooking method is simply to simmer, very gently, in a pan of boiling water for 10 minutes then slice down the middle and 'butterfly'.

We even have a festival to celebrate it.  The World Black Pudding Throwing Championships are held every year in Ramsbottom, just outside of Manchester.  A high scaffold is erected and competitors compete to dislodge a stack of Yorkshire Puddings from the ceremonial plinths with the finest Bury Black Puddings.


Of course - the age-old rivalry between Lancashire and Yorkshire has nothing at all to do with this!

Link:       The Bury Black Pudding Company  

                                                         

                               

The 'Dregs' Session, Justine's 10 Second Kebab Dilemma and Emu's Pie Fondue

For those of you not acquainted with the 'Dregs Session' then please allow me to enlighten you. A 'Dregs Session' takes place at your local tavern and usually runs from 3pm through to 7pm Monday to Friday. The profile of the patrons you will find slouching at the bar generally consist of working stock, scattered with a few retired folk. The patrons will be made up of both genders, but the XY chromosomes will be more prominent. The attire on show usually consists of Hi-Vis jackets, rigger boots, steel toe-caps, multi-pocketed combat trousers covered in dirt or paint, official uniforms, casual wear (the retired and taxi drivers only) and the odd suit. The phrase comes from wanting to shred the 'dregs' of the working day, either vocally or contemplatively, in a relaxed atmosphere with the help of alcohol. The conversations will range from your crappy day at work, horse racing, football, who had to be carried to the waiting taxi, semi-conscious, and 'belted in' the previous weekend and plenty of banter. If ya lucky you'll have a 'Brendan'. An educated man of history and current affairs, a political animal who will educate and debate. I must stipulate that this gathering only ever happens at your local taverns.

'Twas an early evening like this, a few days ago, that I found myself slouching at the bar in my local tavern, hugging a cold Carling. I must profess I regulary find myself in this position. The conversation got around to this blog and 'The Sausage Sandwich v The Bacon Sandwich Condiment Debate'. Justine, who went for no sauce on either...strange girl..recounted the following Kebab story;

After a 'messy' night out, she stumbled home with new born giraffe legs, via Ali's Kebabish. Hugging a large Donner on Nan dressed with wilted salad covered in both yoghurt and chilli sauce close to her chest she was ready to growl at anyone who even looked at her delicious, wrapped gastro-porn.

With the giraffe legs and a dizzy head she climbed the stairs with the tightly held kebab and a plate, falling onto the bed. She unwrapped, plated and began to munch down on the gorgeous seasoned lamb, salad, sauces and warm nan. She fell asleep.

The morning light hurt her eyes. The plate sat empty across her dressed torso.

"Did I eat all that Kebab?"

At this point of the story she informed me that she had not yet bought a headboard for her bed.

Two weeks later her cat was hiding somewhere in the house. After a long search, she heard muffled cries coming from the the small gap between the mattress on the bed and the wall. She put her hand down the gap, gripped and pulled out...HALF OF A KEBAB.

She looked down, lovingly, at the dried mess in her hand, blew off the dust, and said aloud.."mmmmm, I love you, ya still looking good, could I?"

Emu is a very dear long standing friend and a regular patron of 'The Dregs Session' but my culinary endeavours are always met with "What you eating that shite for?" What you need to know about Emu's palette is that it only gets to experience Spaghetti Hoops, Iceland £1 'Ding' meals, Warbies bread, Hollands pies and The Welcome Chippy's Burger, topped with a pea fritter. Now, this is a man who is still traumatised because he can longer get his hands on tinned Goblin Steak n Kidney Puddings. One the very few occasions we've gone out as a group for a meal, he will always ask for the Sausage, Chips and Beans Kid Meal...We are paying £15 for a main, he is paying £3.95..not as daft as he looks, and he gets a free colouring book and box of crayons. Anyhows, here is his 'recipe' for what I call 'Emu's Pie Fondue'. This is only applicable with Cheese n Onion, Meat n Potato or Steak n Kidney pies.

Emu's Pie Fondue   

Choose one of the aformentioned Hollands pies, can only be Hollands
A portion of chips
Ketchup, meat n potato or steak and kidney only

Remove the 'lid' from the pie
Eat the 'lid'

Micro or unwrap the chips, if chippy bought

Dip the chips into the filling

Once empty, eat the pastry case

NB: IF USING MEAT N POTATO OR STEAK N KIDNEY, STIR THROUGH KETCHUP BEFORE DIPPING

Enjoy................

Love, peace and freedom people

Cluski

Oklahoma breakfast

Oklahoma is probably the best cafe/gift shop in Manchester. Just off Shudehill in the Northern Quarter it is a place to while away a hour or so and catch up with the newspapers. A full review will follow shortly.

Sunday morning planning. A pot of Yorkshire tea.

Whilst everybody in this house has a Sunday morning lie-in, I generally find myself planning the forthcoming weeks menus over a pot of Yorkshire tea.  Do I plan a week of comfort food? A week of specific cuisines? How many dishes can I make today and freeze for quick dinners if my fellow housemates have plans and need to catch something hearty whilst on the move?

I'm thinking a Mexican/Americana theme which will allow me to spend a couple hours today making a fantastic Chilli using beef brisket, dried chipotle chillies and hot coffee, Sloppy Joes for a Horseshoe dinner and some dry spice rubs for Philly Cheese Steak.

Another advantage of pre-planning is an economical one.  Your shopping list will consist of only the ingredients you need to cook the weeks dinners, hence you will not be grabbing at any 2 for 1's or other offers you may see in the supermarket just because its an 'offer'.  You will be surprised how much money you will save and your food waste will be dramatically reduced......Rock n Roll.

                                                                             Love and peace people

                                                                                                       Cluski