Sunday Night

Posted on June 23, 2013


Sunday night is about being together in the kitchen and enjoying the cooking process.

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So here’s how it goes…

We roll in from the cinema, having seen an afternoon preview of Despicable Me 2, talking about the perfection of the mood created by Pharell’s soundtrack, the textures of the fabrics of the characters clothing, the fart gun jokes. Ernie comes galloping up the hall to met us, like we’ve been gone for weeks –  the best part of living with a dog, then we end up in the kitchen in a bustle of bags and coats.

I open a bottle and collect handfuls of ice from the fridge – I know, it’s a travesty to put ice in Chablis, but we’re happy Philistines and that’s how we like it. The music enters the room when the battle with connecting via bluetooth is won and it starts to feel like the evening has begun.

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Claire pulls up a chair and grabs the camera, George gets bored and heads off to watch TV.

I gather the ingredients that I can find – I always set off with a notion of where a meal is going, but I enjoy the freedom of using what there is to use. I follow ideas, not recipes.

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We drink the wine and I chop the onions, garlic, celery, potatoes and Chorizo. I love the precision of knife work – the rhythm of the strokes and the control over the movement of the blade across the vegetables. I do not love the tin-opener as I wrestle it around the rim of the can of chickpeas, but we get there in the end and the peas spill into the sieve to be washed. I try to act like a normal person as the shutter clicks, but in truth I either look like a grinning fool or a convicted felon in the captured shots – I hope we can find a couple of good ones and carry on cooking.

I heat some oil in a pan and I lose Claire to her iPhone for a few moments.

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The chorizo fries and releases its paprika loaded oil, which works as a seasoning for everything that follows. The vegetables enter the pan to fry in the oil, which having softened are joined by the chickpeas and potatoes.

I add sherry and enjoy the vapours of the evaporation as I lean across the hob. Then I cover everything in the pan with chicken stock and lean back on the worktop, the hard work is done.

I open a second bottle.

While the pan simmers, either the smell or hunger bring George back to the kitchen and the presence of a camera guarantees a few moments of performance. After some leaping and dancing he is satisfied and heads for the TV again.

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I slice the bread.

I wait for the stew to reduce a bit, but maintaining a loose consistency so there is something for the bread to mop up.

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When I’m happy it’s got there I tip it into a bowl and we head for the table.

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We eat the stew, mopping our plates with the bread and sit back in our chairs, satisfied by the spicy, creamy flavours.

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I relax back into the sofa, thinking about next Sunday night…it can’t come soon enough.


Posted in: Ed, Food, Main Courses, Meaty, Spicy