curry, with a twist

The story goes like this: I'm in charge of cooking dinner, something that happens less often now, given my lousy time management and penchant for being easily distracted. There's left over basmati rice and lamb jalfrezi from Saturday night's carry out, chicken remains from a roast. I make a chicken curry for my son and me, which we eat contentedly at 6 o'clock. I add some chicken to the lamb jalfrezi, ready for my partner when he returns later from a meeting. As an afterthought, I mix in raw spinach from a bowl in the fridge.


When he arrives home, I heat up the curry and rice in the microwave, and serve it to him. I disappear into another room to fetch something, and moments later he appears, plate in hand, telling me he wishes to make a complaint to the kitchen. As I look at him questioningly (my curries are usually well-received, and this one didn't even need much cooking), he lifts up a green scouring pad, about 4" by 2", speckled with rice grains and fragments of spinach ( exhibit 1).

He's amused, I'm baffled and apologetic. We devote five minutes to wondering how this scourer could have appeared in his meal without my noticing. There's no obvious explanation. Was it the kittens, taking revenge for my colossal efforts to prevent them from scrambling up my plants? Was it me in a moment of extreme preoccupation? Was it the butler? Whatever/whoever the culprit, it won't do my culinary reputation any good... Though of course I could use this as a springboard to opening a restaurant specialising in unusual ingredient combinations, all with a washing-up theme - tender loin of beef with seasoned pot brush; tomato and thyme cod with a mushroom and Fairy Liquid coulis; lamb and yoghurt Egyptian cotton tea towel wrap. Mmm - worth thinking about.









It's easy to personalise our pets; is it possible to do the same with vehicles? As we started up the engine to go for a drive on Sunday, we noticed smoke coming out of the engine. Investigation established that the alternator had seized up. This morning a breakdown lorry appeared to take our van away. As I stared at the van, I'm sure that fleetingly I felt upset for it, as I might for a friend who needed minor surgery. As I've mentioned before, we've travelled extensively in our Renault Trafic, and hopefully will continue to do so. It might just be a heap of metal, easily replaceable in the way that people and pets aren't, but it's a meaningful part of my past, my present and, very probably, my forseeable future.



Thoughtfully yours


Jane