unspoken

We went to bed early, because we can. No children to bathe, no washing up, no better reason to keep our clothes on. 

We were still awake at midnight, skin illuminated with cool sheen by the light of his radio, unaware of the falling snow outside. 

I am in a favourite position, astride him but folded forward over his thighs, barely focused on my movements, just a rhythmic rocking of my knees. I sense movement behind me, the minuscule sigh of lubricant dispensed. A pause.

It is not his hand that I feel reaching out to me but the marble chill of a familiar toy, and it is not hesitation that has him hold that glassy knuckle to the base of my spine but just the interlude of anticipation as i flatten my body across his lower legs, a muffled plea escaping as he presses harder. 

mixing it up

Nigella's Meatloaf, my way. 

4 eggs

4 onions

5 tablespoons duck fat

1 teaspoon malden sea salt

1 teaspoon of worcestershire sauce

900g beef mince

100g breadcrumbs

an apple

about 13 strips of rindless streaky bacon

Bring a pan of water to the boil and cook 3 eggs for 7 minutes. Refresh and leave to cool.

Peel and chop the onions, heat the duck fat in a wide bottomed pan. Cook the onions gently, with the salt, until thoroughly softened and sweet - 20 minutes at least, then put aside to cool. 

Put the beef and sauce in a bowl, add the onions and work everything together by hand. Add the final egg and breadcrumbs (I used 2 slices of gluten free bread) and a grated eating apple - i like the extra juice and sweetness, and the pectin helps keep the shape of the loaf.

Divide the mixture in half and make a base with a dimple, in to which you lay your three perfectly peeled eggs. 

Mould the rest of the meat mix over the top in a dome. A giant ruby-flecked fruit pastille. Press confidently but not vigorously. 

Cover the loaf with the bacon, mummy-style. 

Bake for an hour, 'til the juices run clear. Leave for 15 minutes before slicing. 

So, you ask .. where is the 'finished' photo?

Ha. I am feeding a houseful of gannets .. it was impossible to take a photo before it was demolished. No chance. There were, however, enough leftovers to confidently say that cold, slice meatloaf with peppery winter salad leaves is a delight, even when eaten with plastic forks in a cold park. 

it's the little thoughts that count

In the afternoon he fixed a broken light switch in the play room and later that day, as we climbed into my bed, he asked me to show him how I like to squirt.

steamy sunday

The water is green because of the sunlight but the lurid colour is probably also a useful deterrent to impulsive swimmers. We tasted the beneficial waters from the purified fountain, but could only manage a mouthful or so. 

Through the museum there are full size projections of atmospheric 'scenes'. The naked male bathers were an inspiration. 

He drove, the kids squabbled over his iphone in the back of his car, i made a picnic (leftover meatloaf and winter leaf salad). It feels real. 

* 

I hadn't read my blog reader for awhile, just because i am swamped with work, and so i'm late to acknowledge a friend's grief. My heartfelt condolences to a wonderful blogger at a sad time. If you've ever participated in HNT please say a prayer for Os and his family. 

HNT/a slut's supper

It may look insignificant at the beginning, but this pungent blend of garlic and anchovy sings such a significant song with sharp tomato and salty capers. Supper in less than 15 minutes, yet the chilli warmth and savoury depth will keep you content for much longer. Maybe that is why it is called Whores' Pasta.

3 tablespoons of olive oil, heated in a large pan. Add 8 anchovy fillets, well drained and chopped. Cook for about 3 minutes, pressing with a wooden spoon until the fragments have melted. Add 2 garlic cloves, finely chopped and 1/2 teaspoon of chilli flakes (increase as you wish). Stir for a minute or so.

Add a tin of chopped tomatoes (a handful of cherry tomatoes is an added bonus), 150g black olives, randomly chopped (although i like to use whatever i have handy, and pimento-stuffed green olives work well, thank you very much), 2 tablespoons small capers, rinsed and drained.

Simmer gently for about 10 minutes, while a pan of spaghetti cooks.

To serve, add chopped parsley and black pepper and, if you're feeling exceptionally hungry, a tin of flaked, drained tuna.

Nigella Lawson recommends reserving a cup of the pasta cooking liquid to add to sauces at the end, if they look a little dry .. it is a good tip.

*

Clearing up discarded clothes i found a single leg of a stocking, twisted and collapsed. The scent in the fabric is sweet apple, transporting me instantly back to his house, his bed sheets, the darkness and my almost-nakedness with striped legs wrapped across his shoulders.

A weekend ramble

A solid rounded buttock, a silhouette of a nipple. 

I smiled at recent memories. 

getting to know you

He says i am the sort of woman his mother warned him about.





And the sort of woman i always hoped to stumble across, he added hurriedly.

thought

He held my face with one hand while we kissed, lying as a skein of limbs and partily-discarded clothes across the broad bed, his other arm cradling the back of my head, fingers lazy on my throat. I understand there was no deliberate intent on his part but i could feel myself heating at the earnestly-imaginied constriction. I want to tell him how i would enjoy his heavy-handed grip, how i find myself staring, lost, at the silent promise of his muscular arms.

He told me a dirty joke today, the silly one about the russian sailor and the shaven prostitute. It ends with the words ".. knit or fuck". In 6 months it is the first time i have heard him say the word fuck; i am utterly thrilled. I throw my arms around his neck and made him promise he would tell me the joke again, next time we are in bed.

meeting

.. his family.

He tells me not to panic, which doesn't help a jot.

Chicken thighs, chorizo, new potatoes, oregano and orange peel. Simple but effective.

there is nothing ..

quite like a filthy proposition to lift this girl's spirit (and hemline).

Meanwhile, I made curried parsnip soup. 

3 parsnips, peeled, trimmed and sliced, sweated in an unfeasible amount of butter for 10 minutes, over a low heat. Add a little flour and hot curry powder to taste, cook for a couple of minutes. Be brave, the curry heat is welcome with this sturdy, sweet vegetable. 

Cover with water, simmer for half an hour or so until parsnips are tender. Blitz, and reheat with a little milk to make the preferred consistency. Or add double cream if you are feeling decadent. 

quag

"Do you kiss X?" he asks a little shyly, warm and sweet-selling from the bath, just him and me at bedtime.

"I like X" he says.

"Will you marry X?" and i have to laugh, and bury his questions in the towel, distract him with kisses and a story. He has no concept that i am married (still, but only just) to his father.

I was also reminded that his elder brother had remembered something about someone, earlier that day. Nothing particularly consequential but a ghost of a recent relationship of mine was publicly aired. When children are involved, the little particulars of a courtship are peculiarly (and occasionally painfully) exposed, which is perhaps why i am being so taciturn on these pages.

Have i mentioned Brownies recently? The bestest brownie recipe ever. Perhaps.