I was on the loose in town today sans glasses. I realised they weren’t on my nose as we were leaving, but Léo was driving so I didn’t think it would be too much of a problem. Also we were running late, and the whole ‘when and where did I last see them etc.’ thing would have been too boring and time-consuming. It would obviously be easier to wear them all the time, but as I’m short-sighted, shallow, vain and in denial, it’s never going to happen. Anyway, Léo is a 16-year-old know-all learner driver boy racer, so out-of-focus is definitely the way to go. Far less white-knuckle stress.
While Léo was having his French horn lesson, I went shopping. All things considered, I didn’t do too badly. I bought baby peppers instead of tomatoes, but you know, who cares?  And I had to ask the owner of the shop to tap in my credit card code but again, no big deal. I waved like a maniac across the shop at someone who didn’t know me from Adam, but she was very nice about it and we chatted for a bit. In hindsight I realise she maybe just felt sorry for me, but is hindsight always a good guide? Going in to the post office I misjudged the doorstep, which resulted in an expedient and slightly melodramatic head first entrance. I then ‘Madamed’ a Monsieur, although he didn’t seem too put out – he was obviously quite woke; it’s so last century to fixate on gender.
I went back to the car to wait for my chauffeur (I got into the right car after just one small blunder), and passed the time contemplating my seemingly smooth, almost Photoshopped, wrinkle-free forehead (I’m making myself sound like a simpleton/lunatic now). I concluded that forgetting your glasses is cheaper and more effective than botox, probably less painful too, although that might be open to debate, as my doorstubbed toe will attest. It can be quite comforting to not see things too clearly all the time – I’m not sure that an obsession for detail is necessarily healthy. Think big picture. All in all, blurred worked pretty well for me today.
These ribs are a bit time-consuming, but so worth it. I had given up making ribs because they didn’t seem to be available to buy. We have now found a great butcher who has them all the time. They’re really not particularly healthy, but in a way they are because they’re so delicious they make you happy. And anyway, moderation is the key.
Ingredients (serves 4)
For 4 racks of pork ribs (approx. 400g each)
For the marinade:
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon paprika
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 orange, juiced
1 tablespoon brown sugar
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 cloves of garlic, peeled and crushed
Combine the ingredients to form a runny paste in a food processor.
For the BBQ sauce:
1 onion, peeled
2 cloves of garlic, peeled
1 chilli, seeds removed
1 teaspoon fresh thyme
1 tablespoon fresh coriander
1 teaspoon chilli powder
50g brown sugar
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
50ml tomato ketchup
Dash of Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon mustard
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
Combine the ingredients to form a paste in a food processor.
Rub the marinade over the rib racks and leave in the fridge overnight. Preheat the oven to 125°C, place the ribs on a baking try and cook for 1½ hours. Remove from the oven and wrap the ribs in tin foil and cover with the sauce. Return to the oven for another hour. Open the tin foil wrapping and increase the oven temperature to 200°C for a further half hour.
 

 
 

I inadvertently surround myself by fussy men. My father was very tricky to buy presents for, and I always ended up buying him books which was an interesting challenge. Well-written, knowledgeable, lively, original and slightly wry biographies about Winston Churchill or Napoleon were usually a good bet, and most things by Philip Roth or Ian McEwan usually passed muster. Books that tried to be too witty or too clever would be cast aside in disgust, as were novels by PD James who never ‘got to the bloody point’ quickly enough. It was with great sadness that I recently saw there was a new Churchill biography out because I’ll never know what he thought of it.
Luc and Léo are inordinately difficult to shop for because they’re both strangely obsessed with the weight of all shoes and clothing. Léo also has an aversion to pink, yellow and anything patterned. And not only must everything be feather-light, any zips or buttons must be ultra rapid to avoid, god forbid, slowing him down. Luc is a big fan of parachute silk and doesn’t care if his clothes make him look like gay Hawaiian televangelist, as long as they’re diaphanous. Mon dieu!
But it is Hugo that takes the biscuit (unless they’re dog biscuits which he spits out). His bedding is a source of sleepless nights for everybody. We are currently testing bed number four as the first three were not to his liking, which he made very clear. I do understand because I’ve had unpleasant experiences at times with uncomfortable bedding, but I don’t show my exasperation by growling and huffing and puffing all night.
Little Java is a breath of fresh air. Although I suspect she must have a preference for cashmere cushions (who wouldn’t?), she sleeps anywhere and on anything. She also eats absolutely everything (including dressed salad, mustard and melon, which, as dog owners will know, is incredibly random). There is literally nothing that makes her unhappy. Except gunfire; gunfire unhinges her, which is ironic as she was born and bred to be a gundog…
Ingredients (serves 4)
1 onion, peeled and  chopped
5 shallots, peeled and chopped
4 cloves garlic
1 stalk lemongrass, chopped
1 teaspoon turmeric (or fresh turmeric, grated)
4 fresh chillis, washed and chopped
1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
600g braising steak, cubed
2 tablespoons coconut oil
1 cinnamon stick
6 cardamon pods
4 kaffir lime leaves
500ml coconut milk
1 lime, juiced
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Place the onion, shallots, garlic, lemongrass, turmeric and chills into a food processor and blend to obtain a smooth paste. Add the meat to the paste, mixing well and leave to marinate in the fridge for at least a few hours. Heat the coconut oil in a casserole dish and fry the meat/paste mixture for a few minutes until well browned. Add the cinnamon stick, the cardamon (releasing the seeds from the pods beforehand) and the kaffir leaves.  Add the coconut milk, lime juice and seasoning and bring to a gentle simmer. Cook for about an hour and a half, stirring frequently. The meat should be tender and the sauce reduced and rich.

Java has a boyfriend. In fact, she has two. One lives about a kilometre away to the east, and the other a kilometre to the west. At the moment they have different visiting times but, as one of them in particular is making himself more and more at home ‘chez Java’, it’s inevitable that one day they’ll turn up at the same time and I’m afraid it won’t be pretty. Especially if drama llama Java has anything to do with it. Meanwhile, Hugo is delighted because it gets her off his back for a bit; when either of them turns up,  he shrugs a gallic canine shrug, sighs with relief and leaves them to it. There are only two prerequisites to be Java’s dogfriend: speed and stamina (although Hugo would no doubt say stupidity was another one). ‘Dates’ consist of running around the house at break-neck speed for hours on end, stopping only occasionally either to change direction or to slurp noisily from the pool. If they tire before she’s had enough, she barks at them manically. A catch she is not – just ask Hugo.
Niko, Java’s handsome admirer from the East
In other news, I noticed the other day that a couple of the hens had blobs of Farrow and Ball’s ‘Folly Green’ paint on their wings. Thinking that they’d just been hanging out too long in the workshop, I rinsed them down and forgot about it until Luc started to rant that the hens’ ‘tattoos’  had faded. Apparently he’d been colour-coding them according to how many eggs they lay. No doubt this information was to make its way onto a complicated spreadsheet to determine whether they’re paying for their keep, and if not, whether their next port of call should be a Le Creuset casserole dish. As he knows that I refuse to cook any beast that I’ve fed and built up a relationship with, it seems rather futile, but whatever floats his boat. And spreadsheets seem to.
These scallops seemed to float everyone’s boat when I last made them. I served them with rice, but they would be delicious with noodles too.
Ingredients (serves 4)
4 tablespoons sesame oil
10 mushrooms, peeled and sliced
1 red onion, peeled and sliced
2 small carrots, peeled and sliced
75g greens peas
1 red pepper, sliced
500g scallops
2 cloves garlic, crushed
2 teaspoons fresh ginger, grated
1 teaspoon chilli powder
4 tablespoons soya sauce
Heat the sesame soil in a large frying pan or wok, add the mushrooms, onion, carrots, peaks and pepper and stir fry until tender. Add the scallops, garlic, ginger and chilli powder and stir fry for about two minutes or until the scallops become opaque. Add the soya sauce heating for a further minute and serve. I served with a combination of wild rice/thai rice.