It's along the lines of that really irritating and always impossible to answer question "So what sort of music do you like?" as though you are only allowed a limited few things to listen to.

So in response to women asking me what sort of things I cook, I have decided that I shall choose a signature dish from my Nosh-Blog hundreds at the end of the year. I shall make it over and over again to perfect it to the point at which it could win three Michelin Stars and call that my signature dish - and today's dinner will certainly be in the running.

Yes, after yesterday's ennui, today's dinner was a true masterpiece. It had everything; it was exceedingly delicious, it looked great, was completely original and had that slightly unusual aura which sets some dishes above others in the interest stakes. Yes my chumly dudes, this was quite something else.

I'm not saying it was the best dinner on my blog, possibly not by a long way. I do think as the sort of dish you'd cook for a St. Valentine's dinner or a late night seduction this would be hard to beat (as long as she's not a vegetarian of course - but then who wants to seduce a pasty, thin, slightly sickly, weak and underweight eco-fascist anyway?). So this may be in the running for my signature dish - and the next time a young lady asks me what sort of things I cook, I will have a response ready prepared.

A note on other peoples' signature dishes which may explain exactly why women always ask "So what sort of things do you cook?" when what I really want them to say is "Ooh, you must be very good with your hands and I love creative men who know how to butcher a chicken" Before ripping off their clothes...

I asked around to see what other people said was 'their dish'. Most men I asked claim their signature dish is either spaghetti bolgonese, made with a jar of Ragu or Dolmio, or chilli con carne using a packet seasoning (but I should add that every single one of the six or so said something along the lines of "But I add a little bit of extra xxxxxx", or "Mine's better than everybody else's because I xxxxxx the xxxxxx first" and then beamed with pride at his unparalleled ingenuity and skill). All of the women I asked (four) said their signature dish was a Sunday roast - thus confirming that no matter how society has moved on, any British woman who cannot cook a roast dinner to perfection must hold her womanhood cheap in this proud isle of ours.


Cake Blog

Knickerbocker Glory Sundae: From Sainsbury's. I have been wondering of late where to word sundae comes from. Is it Sunday misspelt? (These sorts of things worry me and keep me awake at nights). For those who are also interested in this oddity I checked the OED which says that the first recorded incidence of the word sundae was in 1897 in W.H.Bonham's modern guide for soda dispensers. In 1904 the New York Times gives a recipe for a sundi and also in 1904 the Minneapolis Times suggests adding a little sundae to some lemonade during the hot spell. The OED also suggests it is a misspelling of Sunday - come about because ice cream sellers would dress up left over Sunday ice cream on Mondays to ensure it sold - or that it was normally only sold on Sundays to get around some archaic religious legislation or even that the name is spelt sundae so as not to upset religious folk who would object to it being called a Sunday as that's a holy day. Well, everything is cleared up nicely there don't you think?


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