Beau Peep Notice Board
Beau Peep Notice Board => Outpourings => Topic started by: The Peepmaster on May 05, 2009, 07:49:41 PM
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I enjoy preparing spring cabbage, but hate peeling and chopping swede.
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I'm none too fond of suede myself - very tough, very leathery.
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Turnips - so hard to peel and chop up.
New potatoes - a quick rinse and bung them in a pan!
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I'm none too fond of suede myself - very tough, very leathery.
Thanks, Tarks. I hadn't noticed my slip!
I like your answer, Vulch. I'm assuming you're giving them in a different order.
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I'm none too fond of suede myself - very tough, very leathery.
Thanks, Tarks. I hadn't noticed my slip!
I like your answer, Vulch. I'm assuming you're giving them in a different order.
Look - you know I'm Chinese. We read things from right to left!
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Actually, turnip is quite like swede. I remember my Mum gave me a tip about peeling swede. She said the trick was to slice it first. Then you can peel the "rim" more easily.
(I hope Mince is enjoying these girlie threads I'm making that are nothing to do with football.)
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Girls have never liked articles about peeling swedes, unless that swede was Dolph Lundgren.
Women only care about shopping, themselves, and sex, though pretend to be ambivalent about the latter.
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There you go, Peeps, that's how you get a thread going, never mind kitchen hints, this isn't the People's Friend.
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Dose of clap.
I didn't have the nerve to post that on the other thread.
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I have been waiting for this dream thread to come along for neigh on ten years now - a fascinating subject!
Best: Frozen somethings - lets say sweet baby peas
Least: peeling sweet potatoes (much like turnips, but with even harder to get at curvey bits)- I'm sure Malc knows what I'm talking about with his opinions about women.
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Women only care about shopping, themselves, and sex, though pretend to be ambivalent about the latter.
Thanks for this, Malc. It explains a lot about you! ;D ;D
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You know it's true.
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Spring cabbage... You lay each leaf out on the chopping board, then cut out the stalk with the point of a knife. There's something very therapeutic about that, almost artistic.
Er.. that's what women tell me, anyway.
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Girls have never liked articles about peeling swedes, unless that swede was Dolph Lundgren.
Women only care about shopping, themselves, and sex, though pretend to be ambivalent about the latter.
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There you go, Peeps, that's how you get a thread going, never mind kitchen hints, this isn't the People's Friend.
You know, I think the only person pretending around here is Malc - to be a MCP, whereas really he's just a big sweetheart.
Personally, I've never pretended to be or been ambivalent about sex. As for preparing vegetables, I'm with Diane on the easiest being frozen. The hardest for me is definitely pumpkin, all varieties - the equivalent difficulty to a turnip, except they don't really have turnips here, just wee swedes. Bjorn Borg would have been my choice for a proper Swede to peel.
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Bjorn Borg would have been my choice for a proper Swede to peel.
See what you have done now Nige with this racy topic! ? you have made Brussels sprouts seem smutty.
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I do a Sunday roast dinner every Wednesday, (Lucy and her lad, Josh come round), and so I've just been out to get the veg for that. I bought a pack of pre-diced carrot and swede mix, broccoli, potatoes, and a few more carrots in case the mix doesn't stretch far enough.
Tonight I'm doing chicken, so I have some bread sauce too. (A packet mix.)
I have to say I'm quite an expert at roast dinners. Most commonly I do a joint of pork; and the roast potatoes are always crispy, as is the crackling. I also make brilliant gravy from the juices, vegetable water, stock cube, and corn flour.
We've got profiteroles for afters, with cream. I bought them in ready made. I'll probably open a bottle of wine to wash it all down.
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We're having chips. Can't decide whether to have a jumbo sausage or not.
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We're having chips. Can't decide whether to have a jumbo sausage or not.
Sam told me she'd never seen you with a jumbo sausage.
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I've just made a roast chicken dinner too, Nige, with mashed potatoes (real ones, peeled and chopped) and green beans (frozen). I make my gravy by simmering carrots and onions in stock for an hour or so, before adding the chicken juices and thickening. I'm also a dab hand at Yorkshire puddings and, one day, I'll make a wonderful wife.
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This is getting really embracing!
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My wife and I went for an anniverary meal last weekend to a (reasonably) posh restaurant near St. Andrews. Everything on the menu was described as "resting on a bed of...". You know the idea. "A scallop mousse resting on a bed of rocket and beetroot salad". Now, for the price I paid, the last thing I want my main course to be doing is resting. I want the *%!*!*! thing to be bouncing up and down, doing star jumps.
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I've just made a roast chicken dinner too, Nige, with mashed potatoes (real ones, peeled and chopped) and green beans (frozen). I make my gravy by simmering carrots and onions in stock for an hour or so, before adding the chicken juices and thickening. I'm also a dab hand at Yorkshire puddings and, one day, I'll make a wonderful wife.
If I give you the wool, will you make me one, too?
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I have been surounded by guys that cook too. Growing up it was always my Dad who did the big Sunday dinners. Hubby has a few favourites he does over and over - chili, potato soup and biscuits and he likes to bake cookies with the kids. My son got 11 High School credits for cooking when many in his class only got 3 or 4. His teacher loved him.
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My dad did most of the cooking when we grew up.
That's not to say my mum didn't prepare meals - She mostly relied on taking the top off the Fray Bentos cans and sticking them in the oven. Oh, and she made mash, too. And stovies, which my dad loved.
I used to hate mince (not Mince, -mince) because my mum would boil it to a grey slush along with the onions, which became transparent slivers. I didn't know onions were crunchy until I left home.
Later in life I had mince and tatties at a friend's house and it was delicious! I couldn't believe it was the same meal my mum used to make. No wonder no-one ever came to tea.
When I was at boarding school, I was the only kid who didn't complain about the meals. I would actually finish off other kids meals.
I'm happy to say my mum eventually became an excellent cook. My nephews and nieces all come to her house for their tea, and a simple meal of slice, mash and beans, in her hands, is a culinary delight.
I'd prefer it on a plate, but baby steps, and all that.
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It is Mother's Day on Sunday in Canada and the USA - I bet you could write a wonderful Mother's Day card Malc.
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It's not the same forgetting Mother's Day on the American calendar. I always forget it on the British date. That's patriotic, that is. Mum would be so proud.
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The mince at my boarding school put me off mince and tatties for life, Malc. We had to serve on a roster, and I have this vision of the mince coming up the dumb waiter in one of those metal trays. All I could see were the carrots sticking out of this inch thick layer of grease. Before she started serving it, the housemistress would stick the spoon in and stir all the fat into the mince. Disgusting. I can manage shepherd's pie, but prefer to have mince in a tomato based sauce, or at least to have made it myself.
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I hope your boys haven't forgotten Mother's Day if you're not to be relied on, Malc. I think my one may even be taking me out to lunch - he did suggest it, but whether it will come to pass or not is another thing. I'm quite happy anyway with a day off and a couple of books.
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The mince at my boarding school put me off mince and tatties for life, Malc. We had to serve on a roster, and I have this vision of the mince coming up the dumb waiter in one of those metal trays. All I could see were the carrots sticking out of this inch thick layer of grease. Before she started serving it, the housemistress would stick the spoon in and stir all the fat into the mince. Disgusting. I can manage shepherd's pie, but prefer to have mince in a tomato based sauce, or at least to have made it myself.
You could have "Mince is disgusting" as your signature, Joan.
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Don't worry, My wife doesn't take chances on important days like Australia's Not Really Mother's Day. She drops heavy hints as big as medicine balls. My older son Ciaran is a bit of a sook and has apparently done her a card. The younger one, Aidan is more like me and has to be cattle prodded to remember anything, except his own birthday of course, which must be attended with marching bands, trampolining gypsy violinists and confetti cannons.
I was in a particularly bad mood yesterday and Mel (that's the wife) was making sure with veiled comments like "even a card would be nice" that her Day Of Days would not go un-celebrated. I thought a "joke" approach would be nice, so I found a card which said "Happy Mother's Day From Your Daughter". It has a cartoon of a big cat hugging a little cat.
I used a felt pen to add an "s" to "Daughter" and labelled the cats "Chunky" and "Monkey", our boys' nicknames.
Therefore I will have upset everybody come presentation time, which, as the bad mood has continued throughout Saturday until this morning, (everyone still asleep) makes me very happy.
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Don't worry, My wife doesn't take chances on important days like Australia's Not Really Mother's Day. She drops heavy hints as big as medicine balls. My older son Ciaran is a bit of a sook and has apparently done her a card. The younger one, Aidan is more like me and has to be cattle prodded to remember anything, except his own birthday of course, which must be attended with marching bands, trampolining gypsy violinists and confetti cannons.
I was in a particularly bad mood yesterday and Mel (that's the wife) was making sure with veiled comments like "even a card would be nice" that her Day Of Days would not go un-celebrated. I thought a "joke" approach would be nice, so I found a card which said "Happy Mother's Day From Your Daughter". It has a cartoon of a big cat hugging a little cat.
I used a felt pen to add an "s" to "Daughter" and labelled the cats "Chunky" and "Monkey", our boys' nicknames.
Therefore I will have upset everybody come presentation time, which, as the bad mood has continued throughout Saturday until this morning, (everyone still asleep) makes me very happy.
A sensible person would just ignore this, as this is supposed to be a light-hearted forum. I?m not that person.
Malc ? this is just so sad.
Women long to be cherished as men long to be admired. When you do something like this, a little piece of your wife dies ? it leaves a wound on the heart that must be calloused over with indifference or pale laughter in order to survive.
Buy (or draw a bunch, if you are short on cash) Mel a nice bunch of flowers and write on the card: ?Our love and our family mean the world to me ? thank you for being a wonderful Wife and Mother.?
Insist the boys do something nice for her!
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Over to you, Malc. I'm standing back.
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I'm behind you Roger
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Mel received the card with loud laughter and hugged her boys tightly.
The morning was taken up with my younger son's football game, but when we got home, my older made his mum a Mother's Day lunch, which she got very emotional about. He had told me he was going to do something "special" but refused to reveal what it was.
Mel's friend Tracey had phoned in the meantime and invited us out to the Point to meet another couple and have a barbie. Our boys grew up with Tracey and Uli's boys, (Uli is Swiss) so they basically looked after themselves while the adults talked. The husband of the new couple is Uli's new boss, so I was careful not to upset them. The new couple have two adult sons, who were there, and I pretty much loathed the mother and sons instantly, which is quite a feat for me, as I tend to get on with people. Uli's new boss isn't father to the lads, he has only known the mother for a short while, and she insisted on calling him "babe" and "sweetheart". Her sons, whom the mother kept describing as "handsome men" were two drips with arms totally covered in tattoo "sleeves" who kept their shades on even indoors.
One kept on about his "talent" and how his next girlfriend would have to be a songwriter or musician to understand him.
I drank constantly through the whole afternoon whilst Uli's new boss named every car that drove past us, gave us its year and a potted history of the manufacturer, and a reason why he would "never buy that bucket of sh*t".
I got the feeling that I was mildly resented because I wouldn't eat the sausages they had just cooked. I said I was pacing myself (lie) because we were going to dinner later (true). Actually I hadn't even eaten breakfast and if the bangers had looked anything like edible I would have snaffled one. Unfortunately, they looked like diseased boar penises.
When we got back home, it was too early to go to dinner, so I spent some time on the computer, and that's the last I remember until 2am, when I woke up in my darkened office. My wife told me she had tried to wake me twice, but I doubt that. Sometimes she loves to simmer in the broth of martyrdom, and there's nothing better than a drunken, passed-out husband for that, especially when you know he's going to wake up in agony after sitting in an office chair for seven hours.
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Well, I was presented with a bunch of big yellow chrysanthemums (the Mother's Day flower here) when I came downstairs. Then after breakfast, and when the kids who are no longer kids got up, I was given my presents - couple of books, a DVD, box of Lindt Kirsch batons and a bottle of French champagne. In the afternoon we went out. The boys went to the movies to see Star Trek and Kate and I had a lovely lunch and then went shopping. Trevor made dinner - Oysters Kilpatrick and prawns to follow, tiramisu for dessert, the french champagne to drink, and a couple of the Kirsch batons. All in front of the telly.
All in all, a lovely day, marred only by me getting very upset when I sat down in the TV room to open my presents. We always used to wrap a treat up for Ben when we had present giving, and he would get very excited - I just expected him to stick his nose over the arm of the couch when I sat down. Anyway, we moved to the sitting room where Ben didn't go (we don't use it much either). Only thing was, there was another DVD which son John (bless him) had bought earlier last week - Marley and Me. So that caused more upset for John. We'll leave it to watch for a while, I think. Still I think it was a good thing to get a bit of that emotion out - by the end of the day, Trevor and I were sitting talking about all our fond memories of Ben.
Feel somewhat fuzzy today, though - all that rich food and champagne. Probably not as bad as Malc does. Or did you sleep it all off in the office chair, Malc?
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I'm having a day off, today.
I should explain my attitude to arranging special days for Mel, I obviously come across as a bit of an Oliver Reed.
For her 40th, I booked a hall, decorated it with balloons and streamers (with some help from Mel's friends), arranged the tablecloths and seat covers with the little bows on the back, booked the caterers, hired the bar staff, music for dancing, etc, all IN SECRET.
I drew an invitation card myself, sent it to all her friends, many of whom I had to phone because we had lost touch, then I cooked up an excuse for us to go to that particular hall - I said I had lost my bank cards and specs on a nearby football field so I wanted to stop by for five minutes to look around, then one of the boys was to say he was bursting for a pee, then, (as the function suite has an adjacent bar anyway) I would say let's take a detour there for a swift ale, then on to the Italian meal which was the pretext.
Then, when we were inside, the lights would come on and everyone would yell "Surprise!!!"
It was all worked out, and believe it or not, it all went to plan. The night was superb, everyone had a great time, - it was one of the best parties ever.
The only down side was that Mel complained all through the secret build-up, mostly about how I should look after my stuff, then that the boys are old enough to remember to go to the toilet before we leave the house, that sort of thing.
The next day, when I went to clean the hall, Mel still had not even given me a peck on the cheek or a thank you, and has not to this day. She dropped those medicine-ball sized hints for a full year leading to her 40th, she fully expected a special day, she felt it was her right, and I suspect she doesn't feel any thanks were necessary.
Me, I feel I've done my bit. Don't get me wrong, Mel and I are very much happy, and have a strong, supportive marriage, but the whole commercialized Special Day thing leaves me cold. I don't celebrate my birthday and I'm annoyed when other people do. I hate Christmas, because the whole of Australia closes down for about two weeks before and two weeks after. Easter interrupts the football season and all these Special Days (Mothers Day included) are naked opportunities to sell chocolate.
Mothers Day to me is Mothering Sunday, always the middle Sunday in Lent, a tradition that goes back hundreds of years. Why we in Australia choose to go along with the crappy American version I don't know.
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We never celebrated Mother's Day for my Mum when I was in Scotland. It was only here, where they make such a big thing about it at school etc, that we started celebrating it. Frankly, I was happy with the things the kids made at school for me, some of which I still use, and would still be happy with just a day off. All these things seem to have become much more commercialised and lost their meaning. Halloween never used to be celebrated here at all and then they started the stupid "Trick or Treat" thing. Has that taken over in Scotland, or do they still go "guising"? Occasionally, I'll suggest to one of the kids who appear at the door on Halloween that they should do a "turn" for their treats, and they just look at me as if I'm from outer space.
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I spent 'Mothering Sunday' (way back in March) flat on my side, in bed with labryinthitis(sp?) unable to move without feeling dizzy and sick. I received a card from Number One son and I was supposed to go to Number Two son's for lunch but had to postpone this until the following week. As a Mother's Day prezzie, having someone else do all the cooking (and wash the dishes) is wonderful!! I hate big buildups to 'special' occasions; just spending time with one or more of my children is perfect!
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I would support any move to create a MILF day. It would be for any mothers who had not let themselves go, especially those who were still babes, and especially glamorous grans.
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I would support any move to create a MILF day. It would be for any mothers who had not let themselves go, especially those who were still babes, and especially glamorous grans.
Bugger! That lets me out!!
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Mother's Day for me was a day off. Hubby took over all the cooking and cleaning up, we went canoeing/fishing for a few hours but the rest of the day (except for an hour in the kennels) I got to spend some time on my "art" - something I had started back on April 4th but have no time for these days.
It really isn't about gifts - just to be acknowledged with a little thank you for a year of cafe, taxi-service, teacher, provider, laundromat, nurse and personal shopper services.
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I would support any move to create a MILF day. It would be for any mothers who had not let themselves go, especially those who were still babes, and especially glamorous grans.
This assumes that we were babes to start with, an unlikely state of affairs for the majority of us ... I expect at least one "Speak for yourself, Joan!" from the mothers on this board, girls! Were you a hunk when you became a father, Malc??
As for not letting ourselves go, I tell you, it's bloody hard not letting something slip, unless you've pots of money, nannies, cleaners, gardeners, beauticians, surgeons, personal trainers, etc, etc. You may not be able to see it, but let me tell you, it's there, and once it's gone, it's never going to be the same again. If a mother has managed to maintain everything in peak condition, then she deserves a whole week dedicated to her, not just a day, as far as I'm concerned.
Good to see you back to your old self, Malc. Was getting a bit worried about you there. :-*
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Were you a hunk when you became a father, Malc??
It's precisely why I became a father, Joan. The women involved were so overcome with lust they got me before I could put the little rubber mouse's hat on.
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Ah, there you are. ..0
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Ah, there you are. ..0
;D ;D ;D
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Has anyone here tried "ladies' fingers"? I think they're popular in the Far East and Tescos.
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If you mean the bananas, yes, we grow them here in abundance. The type of banana isn't important, it's the taste. I find Aussie bananas drier and less tasty than the Caribbean types. Probably due to the soil. There was a huge campaign in Oz to develop a tastier tomato. The Australian tomatoes are much bigger than in Europe, but, like the houses on Millionaire's Row near me, with size you sacrifice taste.
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Has anyone here tried "ladies' fingers"? I think they're popular in the Far East and Tescos.
Okra? In lots of Indian dishes..... nice!
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That's it - "okra". I can't remember what it tasted like, but it's called dead-man's fingers, or ladies' fingers, or something like that, in remote parts of Tescos. (Tescos is a supermarket chain in the UK, Vulch.)
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You need 50 lady's fingers to make Tiramisu
I only have had it twice - the first time was at a restaurant where is was just heavenly. The second time I picked up a frozen one for Christmas and it was like soggy old triffle.
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It's a vegetable.
Having said that - Lucy and her lad are making the pudding for tomorrow's Sunday lunch. (We always have Sunday lunch on Wednesday evenings.) The main ingredient is sweet-potato. Should I be worried..?
If an ellipsis has a question mark after it, should the ellipsis contain only two dots?
Why is life so damn complicated?
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It's a vegetable.
Having said that - Lucy and her lad are making the pudding for tomorrow's Sunday lunch. (We always have Sunday lunch on Wednesday evenings.) The main ingredient is sweet-potato. Should I be worried..?
If an ellipsis has a question mark after it, should the ellipsis contain only two dots?
Why is life so damn complicated?
Only if it's a rainy Wednesday evening and you think it could be Sunday lunch-time!
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;D ;D ;D
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I went out this morning to buy a new device for slicing runner-beans. It takes the sides off them neatly, but it's still a lot of effort pushing them through.
I had spinach last night. Lately I've found that spinach leaves a little bitterness in the mouth. I'm sure it never used to be thus.
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I think that the booze has that effect on the pallet.
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I went out this morning to buy a new device for slicing runner-beans. It takes the sides off them neatly, but it's still a lot of effort pushing them through.
I had spinach last night. Lately I've found that spinach leaves a little bitterness in the mouth. I'm sure it never used to be thus.
The world of vegetables has certainly been unkind to you of late, Peeps. I think it's time you returned to the simple comforts of mashed potato. Hang on in there, big guy.
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I had spinach last night. Lately I've found that spinach leaves a little bitterness in the mouth. I'm sure it never used to be thus.
Have you noticed any involuntary bulging in any of your muscles of late, Peepsie?
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The world of vegetables has certainly been unkind to you of late, Peeps.
It must be awful when your own turn on you.
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I do think the quality of the one-liners is far superior on this forum. I wouldn't like to see it besmirched by the arrival of hordes of less witty foreigners.
Did I say that out loud?
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I do think the quality of the one-liners is far superior on this forum. I wouldn't like to see it besmirched by the arrival of hordes of less witty foreigners.
Did I say that out loud?
No - it's OK, Malc, no-one was listening! :D :D
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We had sweet-potato pie for pudding, which apparently is an American dish. Very nice, but gave me indigestion all night. (Eating puddings late does that to me.)
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We had sweet-potato pie for pudding, which apparently is an American dish. Very nice, but gave me indigestion all night. (Eating puddings late does that to me.)
What's wrong with you lately, Peeps? You're talking like a woman.
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He has run out of know sea creatures to call you.