Contentment

Truly, I am blessed. Maybe even blesséd. Or better still, I have blesséd myself. Yes, dear bloggardes, I made myself some purchases a few weeks ago all of which have proved immensely good and wonderful. I have a new sauteuse that is just fab and my increased spending on meat to the detriment of, say, slightly less proteinaceous foodstuffs goes to show how I am wedded to it (braised joints here I come). I also have bought what I consider the kitchen tool, nay, the all-purpose tool of the gods. I have bought a potato ricer.

Jon-ster will be forevermore sans lumps in his mash. Mash has always gone down as one of my top three foods, in the days of cautious drying and masher-mashing. Now I need never fret again, so long as I buy half-decent potatoes, which I shall endeavour to do. But I'm also inspired to start mixing things into this new and wonderous potato-mass I see hovering before me.......mashed swedes, general other smushed up veg (Hutspot, anyone? Am I going Dutch, what with the pancake fixation?), gently fried onions, gently fried mushrooms, meat juices, bits of bacon......ah, delight! Sheer and utter delight, to be found with the assitance of this most wonderous of things, the potato ricer, which requires no batteries and comes in a nice shiny stainless steel model. I am very happy.

In other news, I'm quite tired, slightly worried about lop-sided motorbike wheels but that could be me being paranoid, worrying about my inability to solve chemistry problems - plus ça change - and having thai-ish food for lunch. Badly need to do laundry, even more skanky need to hoover up the shaven bits of beard on the bedroom floor, also need to get money from housemates for bills. Life goes on. With smoother potatoes.