venta

Samantha was passing through again last night, so I thought I'd make an effort and cook something nice. Normally I cook nasty things.

I slithered out of work for a while, and bought some salmon fillets. On the way home, I was considering what to do with it, when I noticed a large carrie-bag shaped hole in the footwell of the car. And I considered the large carrier-bag sitting patiently in the nice, warm office where I work.

Ah well. To Tesco, where they had whole plaice remarkably cheaply. So I bought them instead, and decided I'd experiment with a prawn risotto to go with them.

Got home, had an enjoyable 15 minutes rending the heads and legs from prawns (nothing like a bit of rending after a long day) and decided to make stock out of the debris. As everyone knows, the hardest part about making stock is overcoming the potato/pasta reflex principle. The P/PRP states that when you have a panful of liquids and solids, you keep hold of the solids and the liquid goes down the sink. I kept hold of my stock. Just.

I've never cooked whole plaice before. I tried poaching them in stock with onion and diddy mushrooms, and I must say the little buggers have no moral fibre at all. Fall apart soon as look at you - so the fish was served in a heap of bits rather than anything more elegant. All tasted quite nice, though.

I've just eaten the leftover prawn risotto for lunch. With a side-order of Tuesday night's courgette, mushroom and nut risotto - cooked by the LeanMeanRisottingMachine (aka Frances and me). I'm not sure why I've had quite such a risotty week.

After all that excitement, it was on to Greed, the 80s night run by

timsmith and

stompyboots. It wasn't quite as toasty warm in the Cellar as I'd feared, and it turned out to be a fine night. I'm hoping I can get other people to play the Embarassing Music game (as started by Samantha,

wimble and I) in future - everytime a song begins, you raise your hand if you own the album it comes off. And look suitably shamefaced. The winner is the one with fewest albums. Clove declined to play on the grounds he'd lose - mind you, he was just bitter because I tried to fine him for knowing all the words to West End Girls.

wimble and I attempted to jive to Wake Me Up (Before You Go-Go) and nearly died as a result. Out of practice there, I think. My neck hurts a bit this morning, but not as much as I'd feared. Which is good.

And I had my faith in human nature slightly restored - some random bloke decided

wimble was hassling me, and attempted to rescue me from him. Nice to know people will do that sometimes. Mind you, he was exceedingly drunk and incoherent, so it might have been out of the fat and into the fire :)

And incidentally, I'm not sure where Loki gets some of his music from... Frosty the Pervert? I ask you.