I tried to stay up, gaming, until 2am last night. Just so that, if asked, I could say I only stayed up until 1am and then snigger in a conspiratorial way. I didn’t make it.
But when you couple that with the fact that I was up early this morning – and, you know, by the rules of the day after the clocks go back it was definitely really an hour earlier than the clocks showed – cooking up a storm in the kitchen for about four hours straight I might have just burnt the candle at both ends and spent a lot of the late afternoon/evening time like a grumpy zombie.
But the cooking was definitely worth it.
I slaved away peeling carrots and potatoes to knock up a lovely soup which is packed full of more vegetables than a small, particularly understocked greengrocers.
People are assigned vegetable peeling as punishment, and yet there I was gladly giving myself the job while considering, throughout the whole thing, that really it’s all going into a soup and being blitzed at the end so do I even really need to. I could have got away with it. No-one would have known.
And as if that wasn’t enough, I also knocked up some cheesy hot cross buns which – according to my mum, at least, because we’ve not had any yet – are really nice. Although how much you can trust a woman who, since her stroke, can taste soil on anything that has ever been associated with the ground – including, but not limited to, crisps – remains to be seen and should be found out tomorrow when we fill our gobs with them.
It was definitely the nicest smelling kitchen aside from Christmas Cake weekend. There’s something just downright tasty about the smell of cheesy bread baking. To be honest, I am both amazed and disappointed with myself that I didn’t just tear into one straight from the oven.
But it’s hard when Carole’s around.
When she’s not here I can claim that I only cooked a really bizarre odd number of things. Oh yeah, jam tarts? I only had enough stuff for eleven of them. I know. It is a shame.
I couldn’t pull the same trick with the hot cross buns, if for no other reason than the way they prove and cook means they join together so you have the “tear” where you separate one bun from another.
It’s a bit obvious if you’ve hooked out a corner to nom on.
I guess, though, this is why baker’s dozens exist.
And why am I just thinking of that now?