Packing up to come down to Jan & Drake’s for a long Thanksgiving weekend, and I was seized by the urge to cook. When we first got together and were living in London (in 1999 …), and were dividing up the household jobs, it was normally me who did the cooking. Of the two of us, Tony’s the one who’s actually a qualified chef, but he was never really that into it. So the kitchen was allowed to be ‘mine’.
This first took a dent when we moved to Luxembourg and – initially at least – there was a cook who came with the house, and I felt a bit of an interloper in ‘her’ kitchen. Chicago moved the process on further. With Tony not working, he decided to develop a bit more of an interest (with triumphant results, I have to say …), such that it’s now definitely ‘his’ kitchen. I rarely do anything in it except eat. Which is great, and much appreciated … but I do get the odd yearning to roll up my sleeves.
Anyway: that old Clark family classic tattie soup wi’ mince was on the menu today; and I enjoyed the making of it (above) as much as the eating of it (below), and then relaxing and chatting by candlelight.