Anyway, it's Christmas Eve. I'm halfway through finishing the last of my giftwrapping, my phone occasionally beeping and my grandparents sat on the creaky sofa. One appears to be doing a crossword and coughing, the other... Bother. I tried to lean forward to read the title, and the page was turned. A book by Catherine Cookson anyway. My kitchen is suddenly full of items of food, an almost obscene amount in my opinion, but sure as hey I'm not going to complain!
There appears to be a bag of gifts, but I'm being very good and resisting.
Oh, and for those that were asking, the weekend was quiet, ate out twice; the good Cafe Rouge was perfect as always, (that steak was magnificent, really blew Him away. Mum, you're always right when it comes to fine foods, I always appreciate your comments.) and Say Pasta happily reserved us a table and came up with a rather splendid dish containing asparagus. But far too much almond I'm afraid. Oh well, it happens. But turns out He likes asparagus, having not tried it before - "Hmm. It's sort of... sort of string beany crunchy, with almost a sweetcorn flavour but then goes kind of good and mushy." See, asparagus is a superb vegetable, I love it. Asparagus and chicken pie is one of my favourite foods too. With mashed tatties and peas... Although Rouge's rather clever use of sour cream instead of whipped on the chocolate ganache, oh yum.
Quote of the whole flippin' week: "Now to find a train. And some pants. But not necessarily in that order." - Rej.
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