St. Andrews

We're just back from a few days at the golfing town called St. Andrews.   We stayed in a lovely house called Morton of Pitmilly at Kingsbarn, a wee village next to St. Andrews which was set inside a working farm.   Of course, we managed to blag a bag full of fresh veg before we left; beetroot, potatoes, tomatoes, cabbage and cucumber, to name a few.   I'm looking forward to making a stew!

Whilst there, my friend Irene prepared a monkfish stew with the addition of wee dumplings from me using the fresh veg from the farm whilst I got on with making brushcetta alongside olive oil and balsamic vinegar dip, crusty bread, olives and sun-blushed tomatoes as a starter and salmon tempura for the kids with a salad of chopped cucumber and apple.

Did I take pictures to share with you?   No I did not, for various reasons, the main one being the food was inhaled before you could say "can you wait until I take a picture for my blog............." because the answer would have been a resounding "no" or even a "bog off".   But it was good and looked well tasty.  I know you'll hopefully take my word for it.

No food photies, only kids; normal service will be resumed shortly...............

Kids in St. Andrews High Street with Skye the dog

 Dear gawd....

Lucy on Beach

It was a gorgeous day

Happy and confused?

Happy St. Andrews Day, My Lovely Friends!!

Happy St. Andrews Day!

Ah, to take a breath without falling about in a wretched cacophony of coughing; to walk upstairs without collapsing at the top, legs stuck out over the last stair for the kids to find as they turn the corner towards me, they're shrieks of "MUMMY'S DEAD!!!" no longer ringing in my ear as I try to get up and tell them that I'm only really half dead....they'll still get their tea.

The big reveal is tomorrow. I shall put one toe, then another over my doorstep and venture into the big, bad, cold world to attend my yoga class. I think I understand, albeit slightly, what agoraphobics feel like; you get into a settled, uneasy routine at home and staying in makes you want to stay in and self fulfilling prophecies are born. In saying that, I can't wait to get out...I feel I'm escaping. The girls at yoga don't realise what a big treat tomorrow will be for me; there will be me, in a downdog, smiling like a crazy girl, whilst they look on, puzzled and grimacing, the same expression I usually wear.

Last Friday, approx. 10 days ago, just before I got ill, we had friends over for dinner. I made chicken with slightly spiced rice and a Mughlai cream sauce with toasted almonds. I served it with paratha. Beforehand, I'd put out some spicy onions and the lovely mango chutney dip I made at my party. These were served with pappadums and followed by onion bhajis.

For dessert, I made Nigella's Lemon Trifle Cake Thingy. My lemon cake was made in small tins and soaked with twice the amount of syrup as normal. A slice was plated and topped with raspberries, then topped with cream whipped with, amongst other things, Amaretto and lemon juice. Delightful.

Dessert without the cream as I was too greedy, once it was applied....to face!

The recipes will follow tomorrow as I have badges to sew onto a Cubs jumper and my sewing is like my singing voice.......

One of the drawings I was asked to do for Christmas gifts....just so you know I've not been entirely idle....