THE HONEYMOON
While my own ‘big’ day may not have been exactly what I would have wished for, it could have been worse. If we had been getting married now, no doubt Stephen would have wanted one of these ‘Big Fat Gypsy Weddings’ you see on television, although I suppose we did have something of a big fat gypsy honeymoon, what with the bare-knuckle boxing, semi-naked bridesmaids and reality TV crew.
These days, couples expect far more from a honeymoon. It is, after all, the start of your married life – you may as well enjoy the first couple of weeks. Honeymoon destinations are many and varied. Whereas Stephen and I were more than happy with a week’s self-catering in Llandudno, modern newly-weds can be found celebrating their nuptials in every corner of the globe, busy snowboarding, snorkelling, white water rafting or whatever young people call the marital act these days. But no matter where you go or what you get up to, the important thing is that you have this transitional period of adjustment between the joyous, thrilling, romantic rollercoaster-ride of the wedding and the interminable decades of marriage ahead.
DID YOU KNOW?
(from Vaguelytruepedia.com) The word ‘honeymoon’ was originally spelled ‘hunnymoon’ and first featured in A.A. Milne’s Winnie the Pooh, in which Pooh sets out one night to trap the mythical heffalump, using a jar of honey as bait. Unfortunately, things don’t go to plan and the bear of little brain ends up with his head stuck in the jar, wailing mournfully beneath the moon. This tradition continues, for while newlyweds rarely get any part of their anatomies trapped in a jar nowadays, a great deal of howling at the moon still occurs (interestingly, the phrase ‘honey-pot’ to describe a woman hired to entice a married man into adultery also has its origin in this book, in the chapter ‘In Which Pooh Gets 100 Acre Wood’).
chapter three
The Way To A Man’s (or Woman’s) Heart
They say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and I know this all too well. In spite of my countless other attributes (my loving and patient nature, my creativity, my extreme intelligence, that thing I do with my thumb) I am under no illusion as to why Stephen married me – for my cooking. Like all men, he is never happier than when his stomach is full (apart from our Sunday mornings) and I consider it my primary wifely duty to fill it. I realise it may be unfashionable to make such a statement in this day and age but that doesn’t make it any less true. And in turn it makes me happy too. I get a warm feeling inside watching him lying, belching on the sofa after one of my Cordon Bleu meals. The grin on his lips, the faraway look in his eyes, the inability to jump on me unexpectedly and demand his conjugal rights. Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to be able to even approach the lowest level of my culinary mountain but I am contractually obliged to include a number of my legendary recipes in this book so here are a few of the less ambitious ones.
BREAKFAST
Nutritionists say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and I agree wholeheartedly. Without a good solid breakfast to start his day, Stephen would still be lying in bed winking and rubbing his nipples at lunchtime.
Breakfasts vary wildly from country to country. In the United States, pancakes with maple syrup are the norm, in Scotland they like nothing better than a smoked kipper and glass of Buckfast, whereas much of Europe favours the continental breakfast – a selection of breads, cheeses and cold cuts of meat. Of course none of these impostors can truly compare with the Full English Breakfast – the name itself even tells you how you’ll feel after you’ve eaten it. English food has an undeserved reputation around the world. In fact, the country has produced a great many of the world’s finest chefs including, of course, myself. To prove my point, here is my own mouth-watering version of that king of breakfasts, the Full English, featuring only the finest, locally-sourced ingredients (Asda, mostly).
EDNA’S ALL-ENGLISH FRY-UP
Pour four tablespoons of olive oil into a frying pan and place over a low heat. Add the following ingredients –
Six rashers of Danish bacon
Three sausages (any kind will do – bratwurst, knockwurst, Dutch smoked)
200g mushrooms (Portabella or Shiitake)
100g Sauerkraut
Two guavas
250g Cheerios
300g butter popcorn
Increase the heat, stirring slowly until the ingredients have browned, melted or popped. Serve on a large plate with Dijon mustard, puttanesca sauce and a round of strawberry Pop Tarts and there you have my All-English Fry-Up.
BRUNCH
I can’t say I approve of this transatlantic snack midway between breakfast and lunch. I much prefer the British term ‘elevenses’. Or ‘tenses’. Or ideally, both. And what better way to enjoy this mid-morning break than with a packet of HobNobs and a lovely cup of tea. But not so fast, dears. Before you go racing to the kettle read on a little further. After all, if a job’s worth doing, it’s worth doing my way…
HOW TO MAKE THE PERFECT CUPPA
One crucial marital skill that has been sadly neglected over recent years is the art of making a good cup of tea. So many marriages have floundered as a result of a poorly brewed cuppa for without this seemingly humble act, the wife has no reason to disappear to the kitchen every half hour and nothing to calm her frayed nerves apart from hard liquor. Of course, the two needn’t be mutually exclusive – after all, what do you get when you put the words cuppa and tipple together? Couple! Sort of.
Anyway, in order that your marriage doesn’t fail due to your inadequate tea-making skills, here’s my foolproof method for making the perfect cuppa, worth the price of this book alone. Boy George famously said a cup of tea is better than you-know-what. I’m not sure about that but it certainly takes longer.
What you need:
A box of good old traditional tea-bags (proper square ones – I don’t hold with those new-fangled round and pyramid-shaped ones). You will find so-called experts extolling the virtues of loose tea but, to my mind, anything that can be used for occult purposes should be avoided.
A kettle.
Some water (tap or bottled – preferably still, not sparkling).
A teapot. Some people prefer to make their tea in the cup or mug. It’s a free country, of course, and I’m nothing if not open-minded, but these people are the spawn of Satan and should be made to walk the streets ringing a bell. To make a truly drinkable cup of tea you need a good, sturdy teapot. Not just any old pot, mind – the shape is absolutely crucial to allow the flavour to circulate properly. I would recommend one in the shape of a chicken or thatched cottage.
A cup. Again, some philistines prefer to take their tea from a mug but it’s not called a mugga, is it, dears?
Sugar (lumps or granulated)
Milk (liquid)
Method
Step 1
Decide how many tea bags to use. This can be a daunting proposition for the novice but it’s second nature to a seasoned tea-bagger such as myself. If you prefer a weak brew, one should be sufficient, if you prefer your tea stronger, use two or three. If your husband has just come home from the pub with a traffic cone on his head and another tattoo, I’d recommend at least half a dozen. Place the tea bags into your teapot. Congratulations, dear – you’ve begun your journey to tea heaven!
Step 2
Make sure the water is the correct temperature. This is a highly specialised skill, requiring years of practice to perfect, so I’ll walk you through it slowly…
First, fill your kettle, making sure it doesn’t overflow.
Second, plug the kettle into the mains socket, ensuring the flex remains attached to the kettle.
Third, wait and watch (don’t worry about the old adage that a watched pot never boils – a watched kettle always boils, provided you have carried out steps one and two correctly).
Fourth, when the kettle switches itself off, the water has reached the correct temperature. Pour immediately into your teapot, making sure not to spill any o
r leave to cool for several hours first (this is the fifth instruction, by the way, but I’m sure you wouldn’t want to me to patronise you, now would you, dear?).
Step 3
Allow the tea to infuse for three minutes, or two if you’re really gasping. Pour the infusion from the teapot into your cup. Replace teapot lid. Add milk and sugar to taste. Remove tea bag and drink.
Step 4
Repeat every 15 minutes until bedtime or your husband finally goes back to the pub.
LUNCH
Spending lunchtime together is a rare event for a modern couple such as Stephen and myself. More often than not, I lunch alone at home while he’s out on his window cleaning round or taxi shift, or round at number 38 with you-know-who. However, in order to help him keep up his strength for whichever activity he’s engaged in, I insist on providing him with a nutritional, balanced packed lunch, the heart of which is that king of convenience foods – the sandwich.
There are countless different types of sandwich, from the humble cheese to the regal cucumber to the elaborate intestine-challenging creations of New York delicatessens. Some are even abbreviated – the bacon, lettuce and tomato is known throughout the world simply as the BLT. You can buy sandwiches from supermarkets, fast food outlets, corner shops and even 24 hour garages (between the car fresheners and the peat). They come in all shapes and sizes with all kinds of fillings on every kind of bread. However, as far as I’m concerned, you can’t beat a good old-fashioned home made sandwich. And Stephen agrees. You should see the look on his face when he opens up his little Tupperware box to see what it contains that day – it makes all the effort worthwhile. Of course, those who don’t know my husband as well as I do might mistake it for a look of disgust, even fear, but I know better. Those wide eyes, bare teeth and rigid cheeks say just one thing to me – love.
As in so many other areas of married life, the secret of successful sandwiches is variety. Never let your partner know what’s coming – that way they can never get bored. Over the years, Stephen’s been treated to everything from my prize-winning Egg and Banana to my Walnut, Tuna and Falafel – or, as Stephen calls it, WTF. While some of my mouth-watering creations may seem a little ambitious, there are a number which even the relative sandwich novice can attempt with a fair degree of confidence. One such sandwich is my own special Club Sandwich. While, no doubt, you will have heard of the Club Sandwich (a rather bland concoction with chicken, bacon, mayonnaise etc), did you know that this is merely one of an entire range? This includes, among others, the Garrick Club Sandwich, the Caravan Club Sandwich, the Culture Club Sandwich, the Club 18–30 Sandwich (technically not an item of food) and the Fight Club Sandwich – although I’m afraid I can’t talk about the last one.
My own particular version of this ubiquitous creation is a hearty, filling and generally digestible addition to the range, designed to keep even the laziest individual going whether he wants to or not.
EDNA’S WORKING MEN’S CLUB SANDWICH
Step 1
First, choose your bread. Now, this isn’t as easy as it sounds, dears. A brief visit to any supermarket will reveal not only aisles full of desperate single people but also a whole host of different types of bread – white, brown, beige, whole wheat, half wheat, half-baked, wholemeal, oatmeal, goatmeal, granary, nunnery, thick-sliced, thin-sliced, medium-sliced, unsliced, farmhouse, warehouse, whorehouse, dormouse, doorstep, quickstep, wraps, baps, bagels, beagles, baguettes, muffins, crumpets, flatbread, fatbread, cornbread, crisp bread, lava bread, loofah bread, rice bread, rye bread, soda bread, cider bread, potato bread, tomato bread, ciabatta bread etc etc etc – honestly, it’s enough to leave your head spinning – or is that the cooking sherry? Anyway, to keep things simple, I would recommend you use a plain thick-sliced white loaf.
Step 2
Next you need some kind of spread to keep your sandwich moist – again, keep it simple. As far as I’m concerned (and you should be too), you can’t beat good old-fashioned I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter. Some people maintain that butter tastes exactly the same but I’m not convinced. Spread two slices of bread evenly on one side. Congratulations – you’re well on the way to making your first truly delicious (or, at least, edible) sandwich!
Step 3
First take a deep breath because you have reached the most exciting part of the entire sandwich creation process – The Filling. Or in this case, Fillings – because this is not just any simple sandwich (don’t panic, dears, I’m here to help you – just keep a tight hold of my apron strings and you won’t get lost). The following is a list of all the things you will need in order to create a perfect Working Men’s Club Sandwich.
Ingredients
Scotch Egg
Pork Pie
Pickled Onions – 2
Cheese and Onion Crisps – 35g
Pork Scratchings – 25g
Black Forest Gateau – one large slice
Carling lager – two pints
Once you are sure you have all the ingredients, place them carefully one by one into your food processor and press the ‘on’ button. Once the mixture has reached the required consistency (this may take some time), pour it evenly across one of the slices of bread, using a small teaspoon to remove any unwanted lumps such as bits of crisp packet or glass.
Step 4
Carefully place the other slice of bread, I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter-side-down on top of the covered slice and press firmly. Cut into triangles with a knife or, failing that, a power saw, place lovingly into your partner’s lunchbox and just wait until you see that look on their face!
❖
Handy hint – if you have any loose bricks or roofing tiles, why not make use of any remaining mixture? Waste not, want not, dears!
DINNER
There’s nothing more romantic than a couple sharing a delicious candlelit meal in their own home – but how many of us get the opportunity? There’s the food-buying, the cooking, the napkin-folding, the candle-lighting and the television switching off – a modern husband or wife simply doesn’t have the time or energy for such an undertaking. Well, dears, this is where I come in. Or came in, because not that long ago I ran my very own one-woman catering company providing bespoke romantic dinners for the culinarily-challenged. It was at a time when I felt I needed a more meaningful role in life – and a new hat. I would love to tell you that it was a roaring success but sadly the business folded after just one meal. But what a meal it was…
I was sitting in the Cuppa Cabana, contemplating life and my dubious-looking cappuccino, when a gentleman asked if he might join me. He informed me that his name was Tom and he was a barista. Presumably poor dear Miss Manilow had finally taken someone on to cover for her during her ‘Mariachi moments’. I was briefly concerned, especially when he said he knew all about me and my ‘legendary culinary prowess’, but his intentions soon became clear. He had heard about my new business venture and was keen for me to provide a romantic dinner for him and his lovely wife Selina that weekend. I said yes, of course. My first booking – I was thrilled! He gave me her name and their address but, before I had the opportunity to quiz him about his wife in order to tailor my meal to her tastes, his mobile phone rang and he was forced to leave. Some urgent legal matter he needed to deal with, apparently – something to do with Miss Manilow’s ‘special’ Colombian blend, no doubt.
And so Saturday evening arrived, as did the Live and Let Dine van at the couple’s residence. And what a lovely place it was – clearly the Cuppa Cabana paid its staff considerably more than the average café. After helping me unload several boxes from Stephen’s van, the gentleman led me to the kitchen before rejoining his wife. As I unpacked the ingredients, I had a fleeting moment of panic. Not like me at all, but I was keen that my new venture should get off to a good start and I knew nothing about this man’s wife apart from her name, Selina Moody-Stuart. I hoped that she would appreciate my efforts, despite the lack of any clues about her to inform my rec
ipe.
After what seemed like days slaving away in the kitchen (but was, in reality, only six hours) their romantic dinner was ready. I carefully transported my creation to the dining room and, after giving the couple a gentle nudge to wake them, lit the candle in the centre of the table, pulled up a chair and sat down.
Looking back, I might have done a few things differently. For starters, I would have made starters. And perhaps a preliminary visit would have been a good idea in order to familiarise myself with the topography of their kitchen – and microwave. It was a much newer model than mine and the control panel had me baffled for several hours.
But the important thing was that they enjoyed a romantic meal, and sitting there, I could clearly see the love in their eyes. Or it may have been the smoke – I perhaps should have brought a regular candle rather than one of our mosquito-repelling ones but, as I kept telling them, you can’t be too careful, what with global warming and so on. Given that I only had the wife’s name to go on, I was particularly proud of the main course/dessert (knowing how busy modern couples are, I opted for one of my famous ‘two-in-one’ specials) and I’m certain they enjoyed tucking into my Selina Moody Stew.
How to Have an Almost Perfect Marriage Page 5
