One Christmas, while visiting Big G's family in America, word got out that I'm not half bad at cooking roast potatoes. As the festive kitchen operates in a fairly democratic manner over there, I took on the task with due seriousness. Well we couldn't sit down to Christmas dinner with disappointing potatoes now, could we? As one person carved, one trimmed green beans, one poured wine and the children chased the dogs, I tended the spuds. I basted, turned and checked on them, clucking and fussing, making sure they were coming along okay. My mother-in-law, able to see the funny side of anything, watched until she could bear it no longer: "you're like an EXPECTANT MOTHER!" she blurted. And I was. I must have done an alright job though, as the next year I got promoted to gravy.All week I've been tending my blog. Like an expectant mother, clucking and fussing, making sure it's coming along okay.
Seems to be coming along OK! Congratulations!
ReplyDeleteIt's coming along fine. Stop clucking!
ReplyDeleteDuck fat is the thing, apparantly. Though clearly, not for the blog.
ReplyDelete(Well done on conquering sitemeter by the way!)
I'm not using duck fat (ugh) but what else makes them good! Mine are very hit and miss I have to say. (The potatoes not the blogs,....well some are better than others.)
ReplyDelete