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ventaBloody mice with flipcharts. Honestly.
So, as I wrote a couple of days ago, I was armed with a Lunch Plan for this week. Last night, getting in late from rapper practice, I leapt into action to get some bits and bobs ready, in accordance with the Plan, for lunch today. The Plan said pasta with pesto, halloumi and onion kebabs, cherry tomatoes and chopped pepper.
It was only meant to take five minutes. Chop up spring onions into chunks, chop up halloumi into chunks, thread on cocktail sticks, leave to marinate over night in olive oil and balsamic vinegar ready to throw under the grill this morning.
The first problem was that we didn't appear to have any cocktail sticks. Cocktail sticks are one of those annoying commodities which you very rarely need, and which come in very large quantities. Accordingly, I always assume that there are probably some in the cupboard from last time. Sadly, it seems that "last time" might well have been when I lived in a different house.
But... but... I was sure there was something wooden and pointy somewhere... I searched all the locations cocktail sticks might hang out. Eventually, with the aid of a step-stool, I found a packet of bamboo kebab skewers. Oh yeah, that's what I vaguely remember buying. Heavy duty kitchen scissors, they'll probably chop those sticks into box-width lengths. No! Wait! Sticks only pointy at one end. Thread on the onions and halloumi, then chop up skewers.
Which was when I realised that, unbeknownst to me, the halloumi had thoroughly and irrevocably Gone Off.
Arse.
I could have Thursday's box on Wednesday, and buy more halloumi for Thursday... but I only need a little bit, and we've just established that our household does not eat a lot of the stuff. Dammit.
It was late, and I didn't want to plan, so I grabbed a bit of the overly salted salmon from the freezer, left it to thaw in the fridge, and went to bed.
This morning I chopped up the spring onions, and fried them in olive oil. Then I threw in some balsamic vinegar (I don't give up ideas easily), put the salmon into the resulting steamy-hissing pan, shoved the lid on, and ignored it while I cooked some pasta.
I can now exclusively reveal that pesto-y pasta is much harder to pack into a box than rice. It slithers and unpacks itself as soon as you look away. In case you can't tell from the picture, that's proper, sensible, grown-up pasta: Thomas the Tank Engine shapes.
I didn't feel today's box was really up to scratch. It was off-plan, and it didn't look tidy. It had a vague air of being a bunch of random stuff scavenged out of the fridge and dumped in a box. Having promised![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bateleur radish-spirals, I attempted to spiralise a radish with the ridiculous device we own for the purpose. I wasn't desperately successful, as the spiral kept snapping (and the resulting curls were rebranded as garnish on the pasta).
I did eventually manage a short stretch of spiral, but you could only see the full effect if the thing was stretched out, and there wasn't space in the box for that.
The instructions reckon you should pin the spiral "open" with a cocktail stick (oh, how they mock me) and drop it in iced water to "set" it. I didn't have any ice. I put a white mug of water in the fridge, thinking I'd give it a go, and then dropped my radish spiral into my white mug of tea. It was that kind of a morning.
Anyway, come lunchtime I was pleasantly surprised by my box. It wasn't the best yet, but neither was it disastrous. The balsamic spring onions had gone all gooey and caramelised, and were really rather good, and the oil from the pesto had slithered about the bottom of the box and flavoured the tomatoes and pepper. Even the salmon didn't seem quite so overly salty.
So, as I wrote a couple of days ago, I was armed with a Lunch Plan for this week. Last night, getting in late from rapper practice, I leapt into action to get some bits and bobs ready, in accordance with the Plan, for lunch today. The Plan said pasta with pesto, halloumi and onion kebabs, cherry tomatoes and chopped pepper.
It was only meant to take five minutes. Chop up spring onions into chunks, chop up halloumi into chunks, thread on cocktail sticks, leave to marinate over night in olive oil and balsamic vinegar ready to throw under the grill this morning.
The first problem was that we didn't appear to have any cocktail sticks. Cocktail sticks are one of those annoying commodities which you very rarely need, and which come in very large quantities. Accordingly, I always assume that there are probably some in the cupboard from last time. Sadly, it seems that "last time" might well have been when I lived in a different house.
But... but... I was sure there was something wooden and pointy somewhere... I searched all the locations cocktail sticks might hang out. Eventually, with the aid of a step-stool, I found a packet of bamboo kebab skewers. Oh yeah, that's what I vaguely remember buying. Heavy duty kitchen scissors, they'll probably chop those sticks into box-width lengths. No! Wait! Sticks only pointy at one end. Thread on the onions and halloumi, then chop up skewers.
Which was when I realised that, unbeknownst to me, the halloumi had thoroughly and irrevocably Gone Off.
Arse.
I could have Thursday's box on Wednesday, and buy more halloumi for Thursday... but I only need a little bit, and we've just established that our household does not eat a lot of the stuff. Dammit.
It was late, and I didn't want to plan, so I grabbed a bit of the overly salted salmon from the freezer, left it to thaw in the fridge, and went to bed.
This morning I chopped up the spring onions, and fried them in olive oil. Then I threw in some balsamic vinegar (I don't give up ideas easily), put the salmon into the resulting steamy-hissing pan, shoved the lid on, and ignored it while I cooked some pasta.
I can now exclusively reveal that pesto-y pasta is much harder to pack into a box than rice. It slithers and unpacks itself as soon as you look away. In case you can't tell from the picture, that's proper, sensible, grown-up pasta: Thomas the Tank Engine shapes.
I didn't feel today's box was really up to scratch. It was off-plan, and it didn't look tidy. It had a vague air of being a bunch of random stuff scavenged out of the fridge and dumped in a box. Having promised
bateleur radish-spirals, I attempted to spiralise a radish with the ridiculous device we own for the purpose. I wasn't desperately successful, as the spiral kept snapping (and the resulting curls were rebranded as garnish on the pasta).I did eventually manage a short stretch of spiral, but you could only see the full effect if the thing was stretched out, and there wasn't space in the box for that.
The instructions reckon you should pin the spiral "open" with a cocktail stick (oh, how they mock me) and drop it in iced water to "set" it. I didn't have any ice. I put a white mug of water in the fridge, thinking I'd give it a go, and then dropped my radish spiral into my white mug of tea. It was that kind of a morning.
Anyway, come lunchtime I was pleasantly surprised by my box. It wasn't the best yet, but neither was it disastrous. The balsamic spring onions had gone all gooey and caramelised, and were really rather good, and the oil from the pesto had slithered about the bottom of the box and flavoured the tomatoes and pepper. Even the salmon didn't seem quite so overly salty.
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no subject
Date: 2011-09-29 08:45 am (UTC)I'm not entirely sure how the halloumi event happened. I really like the stuff. I think - because it's not something we normally have in stock - it just got overlooked.