I feel like I have just crossed time zones. Did back to back gym classes and as I departed the gym it was dark. Not just dusk dark, dark like night. At 8.20pm. September feels like the start of autumn, and leaving for home in darkness feels like autumn is not just heralded but fully installed. I would like to say I really enjoyed the gym, but never really do. The aerobics class was not as bad as I remembered. I suppose it helps that I’m a lot fitter than I was last time I did it, but it didn’t feel like the fires of hell were burning in my thighs. That’s progress in my eyes.
Pete was fully supportive of my cut and carve board purchase which both pleased and surprised me. I thought I was in for a moan off him, but he seemed to think it was a useful design, which it absolutely is. I forget sometimes that Pete has a fine arts degree, and loves all things modern. So it stands to reason anything plastic moulded is going to start off with a good chance of being totally acceptable. He’s downstairs watching the Andrew Marr interview with Tony Blair. I forgot that his memoirs were out. I’m too distracted with the big launch tomorrow. Nigella’s new book, Kitchen, is out. And soon the accompanying tv series will be on our screens. Really that’s the genius of the timing. Nigella is warm, cosy viewing, and has that real ability to draw you into a world of hearty food served by open fires accompanied by warming wine. She serves up food and sentiment in equal generous sized helpings. If anything can drag you out of a midwinter slump it’s a man sized portion of pasta or shepherds pie, lashings of gravy and an episode of Nigella, typically dolloping cream in her Kitchenaid Mixer or frying up a storm with gay abandon.
Nigella and Ina would have so much common ground to cover if they met for coffee and cake. Neither are trained chefs, they are home cooks. Both come from a world surrounded by politics, both seem to have a real passion for nostalgia in food, and both have enviable Le Creuset. I’m thinking there is a lot to agree on. But perhaps they may be too similar… They say don’t meet your heroes, but what happened if your two heroes met? I have to believe it would be a love fest, I really do. I doubt they would disagree on any grounds, there is too much love to be lost. But in any event, I should be the one doing the meet and greets. After all I’m the one who can quote barefoot contessa like it’s henry 5th.
– Posted using BlogPress from my iPad