a tale of two suppers

The children and i eat a great deal of gluten-free meals together but sometimes they need a dish that will stick to their ribs. Even in the summer they will eat Toad in the Hole (adapted from Nigel Slater's Real Food); a dish of perfectly puffed, crispy batter above dense, satisfactory pancake, studded with pork and herb sausages. I don't have to cook potatoes to go along side - they will fill up on a glory of stodge.

Mix 2 eggs, 125g plain flour, 1 tablespoon grain mustard, 150ml milk and 150ml water with a whisk or wand blender until the consistency of double cream. Leave (to allow the gluten in the flour to swell) for about 15 minutes.

Heat 3 tablespoons of sunflower oil (goose fat or lard is preferable, if to hand) in a oven proof pan. Add 6/8 sausages and allow to brown for 10 minutes in a very hot oven (220ºC). When the fat is smoking pour the batter around the sausages in the pan and put straight back in the oven for 25 minutes 'til golden brown.

For mummy, a quick and simple salad; a fistful of green beans cooked as you like them and drained well. Finely chop half a garlic clove and 3 fresh mint leaves. Add to a bowl with 2 tablespoons of olive oil and a tablespoon of fresh lemon juice and mix until well combined. Put beans in the dressing and season with salt and pepper. Crumble 70g of firm goat's cheese over the beans, and add 2 tablespoons of pine kernels (first toasted in a dry frying pan).

From Buonissimo! by Gino D'Acampo.



Waiting, waiting, waiting.

My fingers work with his voice to keep me floating.

minty fresh

Off to a summer party, armed with cider, cheese and Nigella Lawson's Chocolate Mint Cookies, still ever-so-slightly warm and redolent in memories of good company.

I made this in my electric mixer, quickly and simply. They smell divine as they cook and are a perfect after-supper sweet mint treat for grown-ups and children alike.

100g soft butter and 150g light brown sugar, creamed together.

Add 1 teaspoon of vanilla extract and 1 egg.

Using the mixer on pulse, beat in 150g plain flour, 35g cocoa powder and a 1/2 teaspoon of baking powder.

Finely chop 200g dark chocolate and fold into batter.

Using a dessertspoon, scoop spoonfuls of dough onto a lined baking sheet leaving a little space for expansion. Bake in an oven for 12 minutes at 180ºc, remove and allow to sit for 2 minutes before moving cookies to a cooling rack.

Glaze: 75g icing sugar, 15ml cocoa (sieved), 30ml boiling water (you may need a little more) and 1/4 teaspoon of peppermint extract, warmed in a saucepan until blended.

(sorry - no photos of this stage as i was otherwise distracted at the time)

Drizzle glaze over the cookies as they cool.

US quantities and official method here.

beyond the aesthetic

"You know golden rain ..?" i am musing idly.

"Mmm" he says, equally idle.

"Have you ever come across pink rain porn?"

"Pink?" he asks.

"Oh, do you mean menstruation porn?"

"there is lots of that" he assures me.

"No" i say, "I do mean pink pee"

"How is it pink?" he asks.

"When i am bleeding, i have pink pee" i say.

"But it comes from two different holes". He is perplexed.

I contemplate my anatomy, and my perversion.

*

I change the sheets. I don't mind sleeping in the wet spot, but tonight the bed is beyond acceptable.

One of the stains is a butterfly shadow pattern, just as the children make with ink coloured water and paper folded in half. The stem of the insect is an intense shade echoing the cleft in my buttocks, the edges sharply defined by the curves of my body, with tentriciles extending outwards along the line of my thighs. The flood of graduated pink expanding beyond my cheeks make the pale, fluttering wings which fade to a ghostly presense on the cream linen.

On the other side of the bed is an entirely different shape - a dense splatter of speckled droplets, a high speed spume of red stardust across the width of the sheet.

I don't know which of my orgasms was responsible for either pattern but am transfixed by the concrete evidence of the variety of my internal explosions.

shedding

I can hear my boys talking but the context washes over me as i concentrate on supper. I am used to them nattering constantly; usually either a complicated fantasy game or an negotiation of who wins first, or the right or wrong way to play a particular game.

Phrases might catch my attention, but it was the tone rather than the words themselves which make me tune in this time. i don't know if he meant for me to hear it, but he repeats himself. Without turning i know he is looking at me; perhaps he is waiting for me to confirm or join in.

"When mummy was ill."

He is explicit in the timeline to his brother, slightly shy as he is now aware of my silent back.

"Not this year, but the year before."

"When mummy was ill in the snow."

I have no idea why he is talking about me bleeding in the snow, not after all this time.

I am acutely aware of my empty belly, and that i don't count the passing months any more. I wonder what other memories and unasked questions he is storing up from the jumbled catastrophes of a disintegrating family.

twittrivia

My week in random little snippets: i seem to be obsessed with food, and little bits of sex.

• ♪ give me some candy ♪ please ♬
• He demonstrated the position first. "Have you got that?" he asks, then adds, warning: "I'll be watching"
• saturday night cuddles with two wriggly, farty, excitable boys. My living, breathing hot water bottles with leaky valves.
• consequently, have resolved to be naked as often as possible to preserve clean clothes. Save resources: blog nekkid.
• needs to do an hour a day of laundry: sorting, loading, pegging out, fluffing, folding and light ironing. This is poor use of my time.
• my sex blog is already a pale and shadowy form of its former lascivious self @helga_hansen with sex romps replaced by sticky muffins *sigh*
• has a crush on Gino D'Acampo. found his alternative (italian) recipe for Rocky Road with additional amaretto liqueur and pistachio
• suspects some serious sexual repression - i keep cracking cherry stones with my teeth
• the *first* best thing i could have done .. has to remain a secret between him, me and our considerable imagination.
• my first break away from sick child in 72 hours spent alone in a pool, swimming hard: the second best thing i could have done
• @MadelineGlass tweezering is exactly how i get my endorphin fix. In times of drought i am impeccably smooth.
• has returned from rendezvous with children's crack supplier. Plentiful supplies of sugar, Pixar and Dreamworks for the weekend.
• has gone to bed rather than cry from the effort of having to stay upright any longer
• my lover's metal cock ring to wear .. want! http://filthygorgeousfix.co...
• children are play cooking. This involves yelling 'service' often and 'cleaning the station'. Masterchef has much to answer for.
• feels grubby, but the smell of fudge brownies firming in the oven quickly dispels all sentiment.
• '..and keep that smile on your face while you do it"
• "You will be feeling this for several days to come", he grins.
• the boy from today's mff has been asleep for an hour already, without his supper - the girls have ridden him into the ground.
• every time i turn around the mff has disappeared back into the bedroom.
• fireman sam to the rescue.
• girls want to play 'mummies & daddies'. boy wants girls out of his bed.
• water play
• mff is progressing well. roles have been allocated, and rules discussed. small crisis over lack of batteries for favourite toys.
• has arranged a threesome play date for this afternoon. It is so easy when they are all only 4 years old.
• is there a storm coming this way? the clouds are beyond sullen and the air smells metallic, my legs are restless.
• "lay down" he said, so i did.
• is a sticky treat
• welcomes the moon into her bed
• it is a perfect time for affagato
• grated cheddar cheese & carrot, with fresh ground pepper #myfavouritesandwichfilling
• every window and door flung open and tents in the garden to make puddles of shade.

carnivorous

I feel leaden with the weight of my suppressed sexuality. On one hand i am stirred by our insatiable intimacies, and on the other hand - there is no other hand to wield bluntly against my cheek.

After my evening swim last night i braced myself upright in the shower cubicle, under the stinging hot deluge, watching the water stream off the prominent tips of my hanging breasts, feeling the swaying weight just as i would when bent above his face. I am transfixed as if i have never seen my breasts that way before.

I dreamt of wading through glutinous thigh-high mud last night, my legs sucking loudly at every step.




A simple yet delicious burger*

500g minced beef (or lamb/pork)
2 roasted red peppers (i keep a jar in the fridge), finely chopped
chilli flakes to taste
1 tablespoon of tomato ketchup
4 tablespoons of chopped parsley

Put all the ingredients in a large bowl, season with pepper and mix to combine (i always use my hands). Divide into four balls and shape into 3 inch thick burgers.

Heat a little oil in a pan and cook burgers for 6 minutes on each side for medium rare beef, or 8 minutes for well-done pork

A good minced beef burger is a robust dish and doesn't need bulking out with binding agents or fillers to ruin the light texture. The roasted peppers keep these patties wonderfully moist, with a touch of sweet and heat. I prefer not to add uncooked onion or pepper to my burgers - use either or both if you wish but i recommend cooking until onion is soft and pale before adding to the meat.

*Adapted from Gino D'Acampo's Buonissimo!

not heinz

I can't fully describe the satisfaction of having a batch of home cooked baked beans filling the kitchen full of savoury bliss with almost no effort on my part. I was driven to regular stir (and test) the transforming stew and can testify that the sweet herb/pork/tomato combination is irresistible, the anchovy is negligible but adds an level of intensity, and the final amount is never quite enough. I don't suppose that leaving out the pork would diminish the overall moreish effect - add some dijion mustard instead, perhaps.

Exceedingly simple, they keep for several days in the fridge, although my first batch was eaten for supper (with cold ham) and the remainder devoured for the following breakfast (with hot toast) with relish by children who usually refuse the tinned variety.

I tried a variation from here combined with this which works well.

Soak 375g of haricot (or cannellini, or navy) beans overnight in plenty of cold water, drain.

Chop and cook in a little olive oil: one onion, a large carrot, a celery stick, a large sweet pepper, and a small fresh chilli until onion is soft. Add 4 rashers of chopped bacon (or 100g pancetta, if you insist) and cook until slightly crisp. Add 2 cloves of garlic, crushed, 2 anchovy fillets, chopped, and a pinch each of dried thyme and oregano. Cook and stir for a minute.



Add 2 x 400g chopped tomatoes and the drained beans and sufficient water to cover all the ingredients. Bring to a simmer, then transfer the pan to an oven at 180ºC and bake for 3 hours until beans are tender. Stir hourly and add extra water if needed.



A drizzle of maple syrup and chopped parsley to serve is an extra flourish that you may or may not consider necessary. Don't add salt until the dish is about to be served.



My children sleep in bunk beds. When i stand at the side and reach upwards to kiss my eldest goodnight, the little one cuddles my knees at his level until i sink down to kiss his neck.

There is no mention of shared custody, but they occasionally spend the night away from me. I bear it, but not well.

patience

He has to coax me to my knees for i know his intent and am suddenly shy of that particular pleasure, a reluctance borne from the familiarity of the peculiar mix of humiliation, of muscle-bending pressure, of his unrestrained power.

He moves behind me, the mattress shifting suddenly beneath his weight, and i tuck my bottom in reflexively but instead of the solid heat of his girth i can feel the feathering stroke of a toy, the slim tip of a flexible silicone finger that he brushes across my cheek, just a teasing touch that offers no threat beyond relentless tantalization.

My body lengthens, lifting the base of my spine to welcome the intrusion.

With his other hand on my lower back i begin to rock, ever so slightly, with the smooth silicone shape nestling and caressing, the cool trickle of lubricant in intimate creases a further enticement to the opening of my hips.

A soft sound from my throat and his hand changes rhythm so, as my body pulses backwards, the offered toy becomes a stop against which i can push. I can imagine my crinkled star flowering with every dip, the pressure of the slippery toy becoming a steady presence upon which i am sinking deeper and deeper.

"You" i breathe,

and on the next thrust it is not the vibrator upon which i am impaled.

*




A repeat of last week's succulent lemon cake, but replacing the 50g of plain flour with 4 dessertspoons of gluten-free flour, one spoonful added after each egg is beaten into the batter. The mix may curdle very slightly, but don't add extra flour - gluten flour requires more moisture than wheat flour. I also replaced the almond extract with the same amount of lemon extract, for the extra citrus hit.

Leaving the cake for two days, wrapped in foil and out of sight, was a true test of my restraint but worth the frustration. Once revealed, the crumb was meltingly soft and moist with a rounded hit of lemon; sweet yet sharp and refreshing.

The cake keeps superbly well for at least *counts fingers* 4 days, and probably a little longer.

sting

As we walk out of the school yard behind a gaggle of girls and an accompanying dad there is a rising vocal protest over a denied trip to a sweet shop, or some such.

"Do you want a slap?", asks Dad to the recalcitrant in mock threat, and wets the palm of his hand with a wide tongue.

A step behind him i giggle involuntarily at the evocative gesture, and my cheeks tingle sympathetically with heat. I walk the rest of the way home imagining myself, many miles away, with my raised, naked bottom in the air, exposed to the stroke of someone's moistened flat hand.

Rocky Road, adapted from Nigella Lawson's Nigella Express

I use a mix of 100g marshmallows (large ones, cut in half), 100g glace cherries, 100g nuts (walnuts or pecans) and a handful of dried fruit or perhaps some crystallized ginger (a total of about 350g). Use whatever you wish - substitute crushed biscuits for the nuts if preferred.

Add to a mix of 300g good dark chocolate, 125g butter and 45ml golden syrup which has been slowly melted in a heavy saucepan.

Stir ingredients together carefully, and pour into a tin (i use a 20 inch round cake tin) lined with cling film. Shake to distribute molten goo and refrigerate for 2 hours, or overnight.

Dust with a little icing sugar to serve.

rainbow

A platter of summer vegetables (carrots, fennel, butternut squash, turnips, peppers), whole garlic cloves and fresh basil, a big glug of olive oil.

Half an hour in a hot oven and the edges of the vegetables are soft and charred.

A kilo of unsmoked gammon, poached for an hour in pineapple juice.
Leave to cool in the stock.
If serving hot, drizzle with maple syrup with a dusting of english mustard powder.

Bake in the oven (with tray of vegetables underneath) until glaze is dark and smokily caramelized; approximately 40 minutes at 180ºC.

*

As my breath settles, heart beat plummeting back to a sober pace, a last whimper lost, he rolls me over on to my side and into a dreamless, effortless sleep.

sink in deep

Dashing to the gym last night, i grabbed a bottle of shampoo on my flight through the front door, but, slick from my solitary swim an hour later, all i found in my bag was a large bottle of lubricant.

I keep having to pinch myself, for it is all going exceedingly well.

*

Nigella Lawson's Damp Lemon and Almond Cake
Cream together 225g soft, unsalted butter and 225g caster sugar until white and creamy. Beat in 4 eggs, one at a time, adding a quarter portion of 50g of plain flour after each egg addition.




Gently stir in 225g ground almonds, 1/2 teaspoon almond essence, lemon zest and juice of 2 lemons.

Don't do what i did, which is use my handy strip zester rather than a microplanner, otherwise you risk the criticism that the cake is 'not lemony enough'.


Use either a 21cm springform cake, or a loaf tin, lined, and bake at 180ºC. After half an hour cover the cake with foil to stop the top darkening too much. Check with a cake skewer after an hour - it should not be clean, but without buttery batter clinging to the wire. Leave in the tin for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire tray to cool completely.

Wrap well in foil and leave for 2 days, during which it will become more fragrant .. dust with icing sugar before serving.

now, you

Undercover of the narrow table top our feet shift around, toe to heel, until my knees are between his thighs and pressing outwards and his legs squeeze inwards in taut opposition while, above the table, among the slow dance of raised tea cups, our eyes repeat the challenge.

repeating

My eldest son and i discuss the day on the drive home. The significant issues for him being food, mainly.

"Did you enjoy your sausage and chips?" i ask.

"Yes, he says with relish, "but especially the hoop things on top."

Hoops? I recall his enormous plate of curled cumberland sausage in an ocean of gravy with mashed potatoes and extra chips, but it was the something new that caught his attention.

"Ah" i explain. "They were deep fried onion rings"

"Yum" he says with relish, licking his lips.

"I keep tasting them all over again."

*

I am re-naming these biscuits as Lemon Crisps. My second try of the recipe (with gluten flour) and they came out as perfectly flat discs but with a clean, sweetly-sharp fresh crunch.

the day before

I should have learnt the lesson by now. Friday afternoons are Hell.

The children started fighting, literally, the moment we step through the front door after school so i put them both in the car with the lawn clippings and the poor, dead tree i cut down yesterday and the weekly accumulation of defunct baby toys and assorted detritus of a broken home which i am steadily shifting out of the cupboards. It is beginning to rain, heavily, and i briefly consider leaving them closeted, secure and separated in their car seats while i have that cup of coffee which my head is aching for, but instead i rummage for a waterproof jacket, and we head off to the recycling plant.

Within minutes both children are heavy eyed and droopy, and hanging off their seat beats asleep by the time i start sorting paper from cardboard and stuffing handfuls in to hungry, metal mouths. They are woken by a deluge of rain against the car window as we near home, their tired crisis passed, while mine is kicking in.

For supper i have the remains of yesterday's roast chicken which became a paella with plenty of green pepper, fine beans and chorizo sausage. i used the dark, sticky gravy saved from the roasting pan for stock - the stripped chicken carcass simmered to make another stock for tomorrow.

a savoury morsel

Last night's supper, eaten with jersey royal potatoes and buttered marrow.

I am feeling vulnerable. It will pass.

pressure

Thank you to Madeline Glass, for my recent fleshbotting: click the link for more delicious, kinky nourishment.

*

My weeks crash on, a train ride that never pauses at the stations that fleetingly offer a sense of location.

This morning, waking in early light, i am aware that i am naked, lying uncovered on the bed, splayed loosely in the warm air. The sunshine leaking around the bedroom door is weak, the silence of the house reassuring. I need not get up, yet.

A slow appraisal; my throat is dry and puffy, as if used and not replenished, the back of my neck hot with a fuzz of curls pressed against a oddly positioned pillow. By wiggling my fingers i feel the cool curve of a rounded toy and my phone, the detritus of the evening abandoned close to hand. Under my hip is a smooth phallus, modelled into my flesh as i fell deeply, sliding unceremoniously off my tormentor and just as quickly into a dreamless, unmoving sleep.

With time to nap before the children need attention I shift into a different space on the bed, adjusting pillows and wriggling beneath a sweet scented sheet, relishing the ache between my thighs, the stiffened stickiness on my skin, the residue of endorphin-drugged bliss in my head and the recollection of a new timbre of his voice as he goaded me to further release.

lemon cookies

It is rare that i deliberately bake gluten-free. It is a self-flagellation thing. Much better to bake something i can't eat and relish the deliberate denial.

However, when I saw this recipe on Joy The Baker.com for Lemon Cloud Tea Cookies on the eve of a child-free weekend, i had to try a wheat free version, just to see.




Love these blue eggs. It is all mixed in one bowl, simply and quickly. I replaced the wheat flour and corn flour combined with a slightly smaller volume of gluten-free flour, but added some extra flour after the first tray of cookies, to stiffen the mixture.






Batch 1: the mixture was too soft and the biscuits spread out very flat, but were fragrant and slightly cakey while warm. The children eat the whole tray.

Batch 2: a stiffer batter, which just holds the pattern of the fork tines once baked. Gluten-free cookies can often be dry with an unappealing mouth-feel, but the texture of these biscuits lends themselves to the slightly gritty feel of rice flour - bite through the crisp shell and the texture is just light, lemony crumb that dissolves on your tongue. Make them small enough that you feel justified in having yet another.