Chipotle

Last year I lost my beloved sister to San Diego. It was sad. We are close in age and size and senses of humour and despite picking the furthest possible UK option for university (St Andrews) at least she was still at the end of a very long train journey (see previous blog) or at the very worst at the end of a phone.

So when she decided that teeny tiny St Andrews was really too teeny tiny, she went to somewhere less teeny tiny - America.

And so began the long and tedious negotiations for phonecalls. She was 8 hours behind, we had to use Skype - brilliant invention for any global relationship. Less great if you use my sister's laptop, which, among other things has a broken mircophone (so you can't really hear her) only one working headphone (so she can't really hear you) and a broken space bar (not so much of a problem for Skype, but made reading her emails a challenge to say the least).

The upside to having Miss Lucy in California was that I had a sister in California. Which, after London, is probably the best place in the world. It is hot. All the time. And so everyday you can plan what you want knowing that without fail it will be nice. You can surf in February and not get hypothermia. You can sunbathe all the time and everyone is happy because they are not constantly being rained on. And there is also the food.

San Diego is about 8 miles from Mexico. This means that the Mexican food really is Mexican, but without the potential risks of Mexican food. Plus, as California is the most Western part of the States, if you go more West (you need to go quite a lot more west) you get to Japan. Which means sushi. And then there is good old In and Out Burger - American fast food burgers. Yum.

But the best place (in a week I went twice, in the year Lucy was there she went approximately 70times) was Chipotle. You get a big juicy burrito stuffed with chicken (or beef, or even just veggies) rice, veg, salsa and the world famous chipotle sauce. They are amazing, and when Lucy listed all the people she would miss, Chipotle was near the top of that list.

Returning to cloudy, rainy UK Lucy mourned her San Diego life for a little while. But she saw her old friends and got to love her cashmere jumpers and Uggs again. She even appreciated the snow.

And then the other day, walking down Charing Cross road I walked past some building work. A new restaurant was being finished. And there was a symbol I recognised. It was a chilli pepper. And lo and behold it was a Chipotle. Opening in our very own London town.

Last week Lu and I went. It was a sunny day in May and the food was perfect - we could well have been in California.

Bruges Part 2

Well, for those of you that don't like suspense - we made it. And relatively incident free.

My father roused us all at the god-awful hour of before 6am (I say it was awful - it was for everyone except me - one of the few perks of working day shifts, night shifts, early, shifts and really early shifts is that my body clock is well and truly broken, and therefore early starts, no sleep and timezones have no effect on me whatsoever).

We stumbled out to the car (I had already showered, washed my hair and had a bowl of porridge - Lucy looked like a rather unwashed cousin It). And got in the back (with a duvet - best treat ever!). I promptly fell asleep and so missed the drama of moving the car off our street, making it through London, and only woke up when my father's voice and language hit fever pitch.

This was because we were on a motorway (I forget which one) and the car was sliding about, and there was so much snow coming down that looking through the windscreen was like looking at a TV with no reception. And there was a stupid Harvey's furniture van trying to overtake us, but because the snow was so bad, it was impossible to see lane markings, or even the hard-shoulder or central reservation.

We slowed to 20mph, let the stupid Harvey's van speed off and then all took deep breaths. My father then asked my sister (who he had convinced to bring her MacBook) to look up the weather forecast, thus demonstrating naivety on two fronts

a. As Lucy pointed out - It's snowing.
b. Where on earth was she supposed to pick up a Wifi connection (apparently my father, until this moment was unaware that a MacBook, or indeed any laptop needed such a thing to connect to the internet).

Anyway. Once we were back on track, we actually made it to the tunnel in pretty good time. So good in fact that we were able to get on an earlier tunnel being one of just 4 cars that had turned up.

Obviously I slept on the tunnel journey (surprisingly short - only 40mins) and once we were off the other side the roads were fine, the snow minimal, and Bruges a mere hours drive. The gamble had indeed paid off.

Bruges: Part 1

Now. My father is very kindly taking myself, my sister and my step-mother to Bruges this weekend. We are only going for one night, to a nice hotel, and out for a lovely dinner.

There is, however, a possible hiccup. The snow.

We are due to go on the Eurotunnel (not as many problems as the Eurostar). But we need to:

1. Get ourselves to said tunnel.
2. Which means getting ourselves and the car off the ice-rink, otherwise known as Brooksville Avenue.

We also have a little time pressure (what good scenario doesn't?) as we must be back on Sunday, and so cannot get stuck over there because:

1. I am working at 4am Monday morning
2. Lucy is due to catch a flight to New Zealand, also on Monday, and this flight has cost her an arm and a leg, not to mention her life-savings.

Jennie (step-mother) decided that we needed to be prepared. We then realised we have no thermos, and the biggest spade we have is one Lucy and I used to use on the beach.

So, before even attempting to get in the car, it is off for a trip down Kilburn High Road to hunt out rather more suitable supplies.

I shall keep you posted on events as they unfold.

Countdown to Christmas: Advent Calendars

Lucy and I have never, ever, in our entire history of Christmas been allowed a chocolate advent calendar.

It was a rule implemented by our strict mother, and after her death carried on by our respectful (and yet chocoholic) father.

We have even been given them in the past, only to have our father THROW THEM IN THE BIN!! (although we so have our suspicions that he may have removed the tray of chocolate first).

And yet as the time has gone on, Lucy and I have come to love our non-confectionary calendars - our father is very creative and we always have really lovely ones covered with beautiful pictures and glitter. And getting them is always a definite indictaion of the impending festive season.

Plus, the boyfriend, after displaying genuine shock at the absence of any chocolate calendar ever, every year without fail makes sure that I have my own little Cadbury's one as well.

Caramel Shortbread

Lucy and I have always been a fan of baking. And so when we get together it's one of the things we do.

Recently I have become very keen on making caramel shortbread. It is the boyfriend's all time favourite thing, and if you do manage to make it people seem very impressed.

However, my various attempts have not proved particularly successful, so much that recently the boyfriend, on trying another batch, suggested that we just buy it.

The shortbread and the caramel seem to be the two areas of downfall (the chocolate I can cope with).
The shortbread seems to cakey, or stodgy, or rises (that was possibly down to the human error of adding self-raising flour rather than plain).

And the caramel.... Well, i've already destroyed two saucepans (literally NOTHING removes burnt sugar) and the caramel is constantly full of little black flecks (burnt bits) and is lumpy (again, I've attributed this to the burnt bits) and not a good colour (aside from the burnt bits).

So Lucy and I decided to brave it a final time.

Now the reciepe really is extremely simple. There are few ingredients, and very little to actually do to them.

Firstly we actually weighed the flour, sugar and butter for the shortbread.

We mixed it all together and then pressed it into one of the crazy rubber bendy baking tins Lucy had (they are actually really good - non-stick and easy to remove the finished article) and baked until hard and golden brown.



We then melted the condensed milk, more sugar, and more butter for the caramel into a non-stick saucepan, that actually survived the ordeal, and is still looking shiny and new.




And stirred.


And stirred some more. We had to keep stirring until it was no longer all liquidy, but thick.





And then the shortbread was done so we took it out and spread the lovely thick, caramel coloured caramel on top.




And popped it into the freezer while we went and watched Love Actually (a definite part in the countdown to Christmas). When it was all set and hard, we melted the chocolate and spread it all over


Back in the freezer until set, and then cut into sizeable chunks.

And this time it actually, looked, tasted, smelt and had the texture of real millionaire's shortbread. Although the final test is giving a sample to the boyfriend. And sadly it was so good that none of it made it out of St Andrews.