Let’s hope the non-napping thing was a one-off. I was gutted because I so much needed a nap too. Anyway, this afternoon we went across the street to the barbeque at our neighbour’s house, to meet the rest of the neighbours. It was very pleasant until it got too close to A’s bedtime, then we had to beat a hasty retreat. Knowing what we were scheduled to cook tonight, I ate plenty of good grilled stuff and salad and fruit and a little cake. A ate her body weight in crackers and melon. L, not knowing what we were cooking tonight, saved room for some phantom delicious meal. What he had was Chicken Fingers with Honey Mustard Dipping Sauce and Spicy Chopped Salad.
Our first decision regarding this dish was to not heat up 1 1/2″ of oil, and instead just use a normal amount for frying chicken. The chicken itself was seasoned, dipped in a flour and dry mustard mixture, dipped in egg, coated in breadcrumbs, then fried. The dipping sauce was a simple mix of mayonnaise, grainy mustard and honey. The chopped salad consisted of watercress, cucumber, radish, dill and parsley, dressed in olive oil and red wine vinegar. I had a bite of a piece of chicken, it was fine, it certainly didn’t suffer from not being deep-fried. L’s verdict was that this was a reasonable but not great meal. It was very much like an appetiser you would get at a standard fastish-food restaurant.
I have to go to bed now, this pregnancy has suddenly caught up with me in a big way. I am now catching myself making that groaning noise when I try and pick something up, or standing around rubbing my belly trying to move an errant foot from my kidneys or an arm from my hipbone. I am beyond tired, I simply can’t imagine how the next few weeks and months will pan out. But, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, tomorrow we will be making A Burger for Brad: Barbecue Burger Deluxe. I wonder if I’ll need to buy more “exotic chips”. Maybe I’ll do that while L finishes all the painting and moves all our possessions in from the garage. Maybe tomorrow night we’ll have a lounge again, inside. Hopefully we won’t discover a secret squirrel society holding meetings in our sofa.