Nothing in life is certain, except food and ranting.....

So the rillettes are made and look and smell so damned good that I want to take a spoon to them right now, if not sooner. I have a real penchant for this sort of thing. There's nothing nicer than a bit of slow cooked stickily soft meat, all herby and garlicky, bound with soft meat juice jelly and served with a lump of rustic bread.

The Boy's guinea fowl wrangling paid off, too. He turned out a very fine dinner, stuffing the bird with a mixture of mascarpone and brandy, browning it in an INORDINATE amount of butter and pot braising it, before flambeeing it with more brandy. The juices left in the pan were reminiscent of that sort of unappetising but deeply delicious curdled stuff that you get left with after cooking pork in milk. Lovely saute new potatoes with bacon and a side of wilted spinach and it was a very fine dinner indeed for a Wednesday.

Yesterday, dodging the rain, we did a quick zip down to Bugville on the bikes, ostensibly to 'have a break, a coffee and a trip to the library'. Break was nice,but we forgot that practically everything closes in Bugville at about 5pm so coffee was a rush job in Tchibo and the library visit was as stressful as last time. I now, though, have an official form to fill in so that I can complain about that. Shame I can't get one for Bugville....................

Tchibo are closing down in to weeks time, apparantly. We asked why and were told that the German parent company is closing all the UK stores because they're not making money due to the Euro/pound disparity. Ah, good. Another empty shopfront in Bugville - well, until either a pound shop opens up, or another mobile phone shop - because we REALLY, REALLY need another one of those.................we crawled home, against the wind, dead dispirited. Not because of Tchibo, that fazes us not one jot, never really shopped there, but just because this town is dying on it's feet. Woolies went, Mothercare went, Tchibo's going, even the Pound Market went. We have no decent cafe, no book shop (well, we do, but if you want any sort of intelligent book, you have to go to West Snobton), no decent clothing stores. However, if you're into the latest mobile phone or other electronic gadgetry, World of Warcraft, shiny sports clothing (not to be worn for sports), charity shops or pound shops, or cafes serving greasy shite food and unspeakably weak coffee to non-caring tourists, the Bugville's the place for you. The Town Centre is supposed to be under some sort of regeneration programme. Yeah, right......

In a non-thinking mood, we have spent that last two evenings (to our eternal shame) watching crap movies - Mad Max on Wednesday and Terminator 3 - the Rise of the Machines yesterday. I'd never seen either and there's probably a good reason for that, as they're both Crap with a capital C. Mad Max put me in mind of a seventies porn movie, for some reason. I can only think it's because it had that hand-held, shaky camera vibe, a slightly off-key soundtrack and terrible, cheesy, badly lip-synched dialogue.

This evening, once the Boy gets back from t'Smoke, we will mostly be slumped on the sofa with glasses of wine (this being a non-school night, I shall be indulging) and a large and fragrant plate of homemade paella, for in the fridge are crayfish tails, long red pepper, the remains of the guinea fowl and some fennel which, with the addition of good stock, a bit of saffron, garlic, smoked pimenton and some chorizo should turn out pretty authentic, in a cod-Spanish stylee. Last night's effort involved white beans, served warm as a salad with onion top, parsley, chopped fresh tomato and a bit of Greek yoghurt and grilled (outside, lest it stink up the whole bungalow), lamb rump chops, pre-marinaded in a herb, garlic and grated onion paste, which was my tasty attempt at a sort of Greek/French hybrid stylee. As we have zero spare cash at the moment and can't afford to be sitting somewhere Spanish, Greek or French to eat the real thing, the Verandah Cafe in Gardenia will have to do.

It's June, Jim. But not as we know it..........

I seem to remember, not long ago, being told by the Met Office that we were due for a scorching summer. The weather today, yesterday AND the day before belie that and today sees me indoors with the doors firmly closed, wearing jeans, sox, jumper and an old lady shawl. The sky is leaden, the wind is whipping the treetops into a perfect frenzy and everything has a completely downcast and dejected air about it.

Being hermetically sealed indoors, there's no escape for the cooking fumes - the house smells slightly of a rendering plant, due in no small part to the slow cooker-ful of meats confiting down in duck fat. There's pork hock off the bone, guineafowl and chicken, thyme and bay from the garden and tons of garlic, all gently stewing away to unctuousness and destined for a pate of gargantuan proportions and yumminess. Once cooked, I've got an idea for finely mincing the porky bits with a bit more seasoning (perhaps a blade or two of mace) and layering that up in a Kilner jar with the roughly chopped bird meat. A bit of stock to moisten and a topping of duckfat to seal it all in and I'd call that pretty damned good, in a rillettes sort of a way. I feel the call of toasted bread and cornichons with......

The Runts are coming for lunch on Sunday, along with Lord and Lady Grangefield of Aldwick. The Pa was 70 on Sunday, so lunch is by way of celebration for that. L and L G were official 'Lookers after of Boy' whilst I was away last year, so it's partly a gratitude lunch as well. The Boy is planning a garden produce showcase extravaganza, so whatever else we have, there'll have to be lettuce, peas, courgettes, cucumber and strawberries with it.

I have a sort of plan involving a trip to Shoreham Farmers Market this weekend - if we can get some good fish, the menu will go something like: stewed peas and jamon in Little Gem cups, herb and ricotta fritters, hot chorizo (as hapjes with fizz)), the rillettes as above, three sorts of warm fishy dishes - I'm hoping for mackerel, whiting and trout so that I can do semi-soused mackerel with black olive sauce, trout with orange, white wine and fennel and whiting with stewed onions. Dish of warm new spuds. What's not to like? After, a cheese course (hopefully a nice local sheep cheese, shaved thin, served with salading, raisins, nuts and a bit of balsamic glaze) and finally, blueberry, strawberry and lemon cheesecakes. Good enough for Jazz.

The Boy is cooking tonight. He will be wrestling with guinea fowl.