Thursday, July 02, 2009


Guys, I’ve done it. I’ve actually – actually – fucken honed into my domestic skillz, dog.

I has got skillz in da kitchen, innit.

Seriously. I promised myself I’d host more dinner parties, and not the kind like in the good old days when I heated up a few frozen chicken nuggets, squirted a sneezing of t-sauce on the top and told my guests if they complain, they can fuck right off.

No no, now I’m making something the common man might call an effort.

That menagerie of cold meat and crackers above - that's me starters mate.

I did it just before I went to Turkey – had four friends over. Can only host four, perhaps squeeze in a fifth, at a time, so that they don’t have to chow in the bath tub.

(How did I ever think a piano would fit into my palace? God only knows.)

I bought slices of smoked Norwegian salmon, crisp Melba toast, and layered on the fucken tapenade. And made fucken canapes.

Last night, for my French friend, who leaves tomorrow for back yonder, I did the same, except with prosciutto crudo, spinkled with garlic pepper.

We know how ze Franch love zere garlic, so I thought it apt to make her extremely happy before she gets on a flight home. Through the medium of garlic. Which I would say bonds nations, but then, I’d be wrong.

The rest I need to work on. The one dinner party I whacked three already-made chicken pies into the oven. Last night, I whacked a Woollies soup into the microwave, but then delicately garnished it in basil croutons and feta.

Because it looks good. See? I’m fucken learning. I'm presentin'. Am finding an teensy miniscule droplet of passion beneath my 'I-buy-prepared-meals' exterior.

Even plunged my Brazilian coffee for the first time, after popping the obligatory Diemers cork.

No more chip and dip for my guests! No more ‘Pop in some toast mate, and help yourself to Marmite.’

No no no – I’m embracing my inner Nigella with the need to be AMAZING in the kitchen. Wearing heels and not pregnant.

As my Greek friend put it: try to be ‘experimental and messy with food.’ Then maybe he’ll consider marrying me for the passport.

Next time, maybe I’ll even cook the meal myself! Big T is gunning for a steak from Giovanni’s tonight – cool – no cooking – just masticating and socialising – but next time I might even take on a full on steak.

My French grandmother is a genius in the kitchen. Everything she touches in the way of comestibles becomes instantly and insanely delicious. The genes have been watered down, with a big gap between my mother’s talent and hers and, to finally trickling down to me, someone who can’t be fucking bothered with all this chopping and dicing and sprucing and carrot Julienning and sauteeing.

Until now!

I’m a changed woman, someone get me an apron – I’m going to master this.

French, over dinner: So Peas, today I had an eppi-fanny.

Peas:…er, I’m almost too scared to ask what an eppi-fanny is.

French: You know, an eppi-fanny. I was sitting zere, and suddenly, out of the bleu, I realized zat I was having a grande eppi-fanny.

Peas: …and that would be….?

French: Zat you can never be too skeeny or too rich. Zat was my eppifanny.

Peas: Oh, EPIPHANY. You had an Epiphany. Thank Christ for that. I really thought there was something wrong downstairs. What a relief! You need to emphasis the ‘Piff’ part of epiphany, seriously, let’s practice, because this word could lead you into all sorts of trouble.

French: Ta mere apoil devant le supermarche.

Peas: My mother stands naked in front of the supermarket?

French: Oui. Eet eez good insult in Franch.

Peas:....isn't it just.


Vimbai said...

Some of us haven't had breakfast so all this talk about Norweigan salmon has me salivating like R. Kelly at a High School prom, lol.

LOL, you should put together a cookbook and call it, "Everything But Peas!."

I will take 5% commission thanks :-)

Peas on Toast said...

hahah I'm so glad you're salivating at my cold meats! Tee hee! I don't think anybody has done that before :)

Love the title of my new cookbook by the way! ;)

bosotter said...

eppifanny! HAHAHA!!! That was funny!!!
Two things;
1; See cooking is not that difficult! It's like most other things in life, the more you do it the better you get at it, so start doing it more! Subpoint to this point; Don't be scared to experiment, my mom always says (she a qualified chef of sorts) the only exact science is desserts, don't try ANYTHING new with ANY dessert EVER (follow the recipe to the letter) but the rest is open to interpretation, ideas and imagination!
2; If I start dating a girl and we go to her place and there is not a cookbook of sorts lying around, I'd really be hard pressed to persue. See it's not that I can't cook (I stay by myself, I don't really like take away food and don't get me started on instant meals!) I lurve cooking but for me a woman that can't cook is not a very good sign! Get a cookbook and before you buy it page trough it to make sure that the recipes don't have weird or unobtainable things in them. The cookbook also give you a good starting point.

Peas on Toast said...

bosotter - woah hey, tough crowd :) teehee! Well you'll be pleased to know that I have at least 3 cookbooks in my house. Bundled away and never used, but there in any case :)

I like the advice on the pudding from your chef mum - thank you and will keep in mind :)

As for the testing and trying, messily and experimentally, I'm willing to to give it a go - I really can do this if I put my mind to it :)

Secret said...


I was always convinced that I was cullinarily disadvantaged - until I actually trid to cook. Now my ex boyfriend (and current best friend) holds me in the same regard as his mother - a godess in the kitchen. I love it. Ive even started my own recipe collection :D
(And I was the kid who used to burn my moms pasta when she asked me to watch it - my sister was the cooking genius! Hah! Take that!) Lol. :)

Peas on Toast said...

Secret - I love a good success story, and you've inspired me even more! Yay and well done you for coming out tops :)

I think I can cook if I make the effort and follow the directions. Thing is, usually I just can't be arrsed. It's a matter of going out and getting all the fresh ingredients and really putting in the effort to be creative for once. Am gonna give it my best shot!

The Dude said...

Isn't that from Monty Python?

Peas on Toast said...

Dude - What's from Monty Python?

(The last time I saw it I was 12!)

The Dude said...

"I had an eppi-fanny', think that was from like one of the earlier Monty Python's, very funny.

Peas on Toast said...

Dude - serious? hahahahahahah! John Cleese, I bet?

When she said it, she was dead-pan. She really thought it was said like that, and I was slightly concerned it was a gynaelogicial thing.

The Dude said...

I think the Python's knew the french better the the french know themselves.

fancyfairy said...

Peas, I have needlessly tried to hone my culinary skills, and even manage to stuff up 2-minute noodles from time to time. Alas, at the ripe age of 35 I'm not able to reach a man's heart through his stomach. Surely there are other ways? (This is a rhetorical question.)

Peas on Toast said...

Dude - you're probably right, if they're saying things like 'eppi-fanny!' Catherine Tate knows her way around the French too I reckon. They should have words! :)

Peas on Toast said...

fancy - yeah I've NEVER relied on my culinary skills - or lack thereof - to get to a man's heart. But maybe it's worth a try eh? ;) All else failing :)

Don't worry dahl, I've also fucked up the noodles before :(