Shocking news…I got chided by my lovely wife for posting the selfie with my two Bafta’s; not because it was just a little conceited (which might have been justified) but because it made me look like I’d had a mini stroke. Bit harsh. This was a bit of a surprise because I usually get told (and by some very close friends!) that my photos make me look like a child molester or that Victorian serial killer weirdo Bodkin Adams. Bloody cheek. I explained that I was winking rather than having a seizure because I was trying to imitate the famous bronze mask but I had another look and you know what…she may well be right. I do have a face for radio as we theatrical types put it. Continue reading
Well regular readers may recall a posting I did fairly recently on that podgy cup cake, Paul Hollywood, co-host of the Great British Bake Off. Here’s the link if you didn’t see it then:
It’s a dry and witty read of course but mostly it’s cutting as I can’t take easily to a 47 year old man whose twin passions are a) cake-making and b) his bloody appearance. He should have the words ‘sponsored by VO5 extreme gel wax’ etched onto his forehead. There’s just something deeply unappealing and untrustworthy about a long-term married man whose grooming regime would make Liberace blush. And wouldn’t you know it, he’s only gone and run off with his co-presenter on the American version of the show 34 year old Marcela Valladolid. You could have knocked me over with some choux pastry when I read those headlines. Who’da thunk it eh? I kinda knew all that styling mousse wasn’t for Mary Berry’s benefit. Talk about having your cake and wanting to eat some muffin on the side. I wonder what the missus said when Paul offered her this tiny peace offering? Oh I wish I’d been there:
I need to get a new posting up on the site. Despite writing like the original grumpy old man I somehow seem to have acquired a decent audience amongst female readers and if I do a football posting, like the last one, my visitor numbers dip alarmingly. It’s a shame because I’m a passionate footie fan but clearly the views of ex-pro pundits and on dedicated football sites are far more interesting. Fair enough so it’s back to metrosexual subjects and today’s is baking. Ooh controversial. Continue reading
This is a perfect recipe for all those blokes out there who reckon they can’t cook. It’s simple, really nourishing and will impress the pants off your wife/girlfriend – figuratively fellas, but hey you never know!
It’s been a day when I’ve been thinking about Italy a little wistfully. Firstly the weather seems to have really turned here in the UK. We got up early as ever this morning and it felt like winter as we crept downstairs. So the ‘on’ button for the central heating was pressed into action. I was still shivering when I clicked my laptop into life to find a message from our good friend Matt in Italy telling us that the weather was still pretty great out there and that our pool, which he’s looking after for us, is still in mint condition. Sigh. Then earlier some of our recent guests over in Italy popped round to show us some of their photos from their stay at our place – mostly beautiful daybreaks and sunsets. More sighs. Catching my mood I sense, C came up with a lovely pasta dish for dinner which is simple and quick and really tasty. And a perfect dish for those of us who think they can’t cook but would really like to. Grab a glass of your favourite tipple fellahs and get in that kitchen.
The first posting on cooking for men who don’t do cooking, for ages and ages. It’s based on what used to be my least favourite pasta, the rather filling gnocchi, and it includes three varieties of cheese (one mild, one smelly, one salty), plus unloved spinach and some prosciutto. It sounds totally unpromising but this is my wife’s signature dish and trust me fellahs it’s simple to cook and if your guests are hungry and kind of have a hankering for things that look and taste utterly Italian, they’ll love it…and you. So fill up a glass of cool wine whilst I take you through the ingredients.
Well it’s the season for tv series’ finales and last tonight we endured the Strictly Come Dancing climax (could have phrased that better), hosted by Britain’s oldest and most irritating non-entertainer and won by the BBC’s very own Stuart Little – Chris and his equally diminutive partner Ola, a pairing affectionately nicknamed Tiny Cola. God they dragged it out but at least we don’t have to put it with it any more at least until the new season starts, probably around 14 January. And a couple of evenings ago we watched the concluding episode of The Restaurant, where the very Gallic and charming Raymond Blanc sets out to find another pairing worthy of investing in a joint restaurant operation. Just imagine winning your own restaurant eh? For those of us who enjoy a bit of cooking it must be a dream come true. And the winners of this season’s competition were a very special pair indeed, affectionately known as Can’t Cook Cola.