The Countryside Rehab

Last weekend I awoke to the Mac Daddy of all hangovers.

I rolled over, dry mouthed and bleary eyed, frantically searched the duvets for my iPhone, gulped down a pint of water & assessed my creative choice of sleepwear.

Fully prepared to surrender to my mattress for the day, I rolled over and saw this:

I immediately felt a pang of zen and everything (head included) felt better again. 

After another pint of water, paracetamol, ibuprofen, a resolve and a mug of sugary tea (kids, don't try this at home) I began to feel human again. The sun was shining and it soon became apparent that I was in dire need of a good Sunday lunch.

Naturally, this meant a trip to the countryside. The Boy and I hopped in the car, popped the roof and headed to the parentals house.

Ok, ok. We may or may not have made a quick stop-off for a spot of deep fried sustenance en route and that may or may not be a Sausage & Egg McMuffin.

We drove along happy and windswept, chatting about nothing all the way there.

Upon our arrival, we ditched our bags, jumped into wellies and set out into the sunlit fields in search of the family.

We met a little mother frog who was guarding her young spawn along the way.

But she hadn't seen them since feeding time for the fish earlier that morning. 

Just as we were nearing the paddock, K appeared in her glamourous truck!

We hopped on board and she took us out into one of the fields where M and C were hard at work. The roof of their horse shed had been blown away during the bad weather, so we shouted directions and to and fro'd until the mission was complete.

Worn out and starving, we finally sat down to Sunday lunch.

 

 

C served up roast beef and we piled our plates high with crispy roast potatoes, green veggies and yorkshire puddings.

I'm a firm believer that the human body includes a second stomach solely for the use of pudding, so I made sure I ate my fill of supper before the pie came out.

Normal and pudding tummies nice and full, we bounded in to the television room for rugby and homemade buttery flapjacks. (NB - I can always room for flapjacks).

And just as the sun began to set, we packed away our things and made our way back home. We cruised along with the roof down and heaters blowing all the way there.

 

I don't know quite what it is about the countryside that relaxes me so much, everything just seems a little slower out there. As much as I love London, it's nice to get away from the hustle and bustle of city life every now and then, even if it is just for roast beef and a cup of tea.

What are your plans this weekend? Make sure you let me know if you're heading anywhere lovely.

Asian Chilli Beef

At least once a fortnight, I have the following conversation:

The Boy: "What's for dinner tonight, Charles?"
Me: "Whatever you fancy, cherub. There's some mince in the fridge, I could whip up something with that if you'd like? And stop calling me Charles, my name is Charlotte."
The Boy: "Oh, right. Spaghetti Bolognese it is."
Me: "What's wrong with with Spaghetti Bolognese? You love my Spaghetti Bolognese. It's still your favourite isn't it? You still like playing the 'guess the top secret ingredient' game, don't you? You were ever so close last time..."
The Boy: "Of course I do, Charles. Of course I do."

I have recently come to consider the idea that The Boy is not being totally honest with me. Back in the olden days when we first got together, the mere thought of Spag Bowl was enough to make him drool. Nowadays, he seems slightly less enthusiastic. Last week I decided to quite literally spice things up a little bit. As much as I adore a bowl of beefy, tomatoey ragu, I'm also a fan of change. And chillies.

A pack of lean mince beef took pride of place on my weekly shopping list as usual, but this time it would arrive on dinner plates in Asian Chilli Beef form. To make enough for two hungry tummys, you'll need:

500g lean mince beef

3 x garlic cloves, crushed

2.5cm chunk of ginger, finely grated

1 x green chilli

1 x red chilli

2 x tbsp caster sugar

1 x tbsp lemon grass paste/2 x tbsp grated fresh lemon grass

1 x lime, juiced

70ml soy sauce

50ml rice vinegar

A big handful of coriander

Olive oil for frying

First up, prep your ingredients. Crush the garlic, grate your lemongrass and chop your ginger. Finely slice your chillies and avoid poking yourself in the eye at all costs. It burns. Bad.

Sizzle your oil in a large hot pan. Throw in your mince and give it a good stir. Whilst it's still nice 'n' pink, add your lemon grass. Take a whiff, it smells good, right?

Leave it to brown for another 2-3 minutes before sprinkling in your garlic, half of your chopped chillies and the ginger mush. Give it a taste and season accordingly. When it's cooked through, add your sugar, soy sauce, vinegar and lime juice.

Pop the lid on your pan and leave it well alone for around twenty minutes. When your sauce has thickened slightly and your beef is dressed in a rich, caramelised goo, grubs up!

I served mine in lettuce wraps, but fluffy white rice or a jacket potato would be equally as delicious. Whatever you lay your chilli beef on, top it with chopped coriander and the rest of your chillies.

Wrap em up, grab a napkin and get down with yo' bad self.

The Boy was pleasantly surprised by my new supper time creation and even requested it go on regular rotation. Perhaps I had been stuck in a mince meat rut after all, but this was the perfect recipe to get out of it. Bolognese will always have a space in my heart (even if it is clogging the main artery) but perhaps it was time for a change.

If one of you lovely lot could remind me of this lesson in five years time, when I'm having the same fortnightly conversation with The Boy about my Asian Chilli Beef, that would be just lovely.