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Saturday, 19 July 2014

Heatwave Baguettes

When did England start getting this hot?
It's fairly impossible to do anything other than lie listlessly in the sun, drinking Lipton peach ice tea.
Which is what all of us having been doing of late.
Yeah, even the 8 month old.
He's been wearing sunglasses and 0+ bathing trunks and lying listlessly in the sun. Drinking not Lipton peach ice tea, I concede, but whatever - you get my drift.

Not that I'm complaining or anything.
I think the news events of the last week means I've given up my right to complain.
Who knew ideology could be so soul destroying?
So we're not complaining.
Nope. We are astonishingly content, baking away in this sweltering 33 degree oven. Life could be worse.

The ony problem of course is that we aren't doing very much else. Which enticing as it seems in theory, can't really go on endlessly. I mean, I wish one could spend forever idling away the days, lying listlessly in the sun, drinking Lipton peach ice tea.
But one can't.
Which is why I decided to get off my backside and post a bit.
Also because I figured I shouldn't be away too long, lest you think I'm having another baby.

I'm not.
I've tied my tubes.
(Not really)

Moving on to far more interesting conversation.
Like the weather.
And lunch.

Which go hand in hand
Or hand in glove.
I think those two mean the same thing.
Or not.
I don't know. English is too complicated for me sometimes. Especially these-a-days.
Me no speak no English when England gets-a so hot.
It's a rebellion of sorts. 

The point is though, that when it's 33 degrees in this country, it's very, very difficult to make lunch. Because lunch - whatever it constitutes - usually necessitates going indoors, and indoors here is not really equipped to handle 33 degrees.  You see, us Brits have long been suspicious of Air conditioners – they seem an unnecessary indulgence somehow, unnatural in a climate more accustomed to umbrella stands and wellies. So we make do with opening windows. Which, sadly, is a rather ineffective strategy when there's no breeze for the open windows to let in. Come December, I will buy four Dyson fans for cheap. Right now, they're too expensive. You see, they know exactly when to make things expensive. It's right when you need them. Like the time to buy real fur coats (if you ever wanted real fur coats that is. I don't, but some people do, so anyway). So as I was saying, the time to buy real fur coats is NOW - in a heatwave. When you virtually want peel your skin off, you don't. You resist that temptation. Instead, you march off to the shops and try on fur coats. Because come winter, when the idea of a fur coat is actually mildly appealing - you can't touch 'em, they're so bloody expensive.
Same with the Dyson's. 
They're cheap when you don't need 'em.  But now, when I want nothing more than to lay naked on a bed of ice cubes, I can't afford 'em.
Ways of the world.

But I love them, the Dyson fans, utterly brilliant invention. Sometimes when no one's looking I stick my hand in and out, several times, just for fun. It entertains me. Not that Im suggesting you do the same. Seriously folks, for goodness sakes, please don't go trying this with normal fans. You'll lose some of those precious little fingers and really, I'd hate if that happened. I might even cry a little. I'm sensitive like that.

Oh and by the way, when I say I will buy four Dyson fans, I hope you know that four is a very deliberate number. And for those of you who are sitting there thinking, "aha, she means one for each member of her family, cho chweet etc.,"  I just need to make perfectly clear - you're wrong.
To hell with the others, I want four for me.
So I can sit in the middle, preferably on a soft duvet filled with goosedown, and position each of four Dyson's in the North, South, East and Westerly directions respectively, and bask in their bladeless glory.

(Pinch me someone)

Back to a harsher reality filled with duty, responsibility, accountability and all those dirty words, I made these baguettes for Saturday lunch today.
For several reasons:

1) I couldn't be bothered to make anything with even the remotest pretensions to grandeur.
2) I have children and children love them
3) I have a husband and husbands love them
4) I have me and me love them

And if you don't think that's reason enough - here's the kicker.

They're sooooo colourful and pretty.
I love pretty.
Pretty makes me wobbly in the knees.

So if you don't have much time to shop, prepare or cook, but you do have a cold fridge and fresh ingredients, this is for you!

Here's what you need:


Marinara or pizza sauce

1 clove peeled and garlic

dried basil


340g Mozzarella cheese, grated

340g Cheddar cheese, grated

Selected toppings: (Any or all)

For the dudes in my house - ham, pepperoni, parma ham, cooked bacon, salami

For the damsels (aka, me) - black and/or green olives, fresh sliced tomatoes, sun dried tomatoes, sliced mushrooms, sliced red onion, roasted peppers, jalapeno peppers or any other edible that your little heart desires.

Here's how you do it:

In a small bowl, mix together the pizza sauce and garlic. Add a couple of shakes of basil and mix well.

Slice each baguette in half lengthwise through the middle. Spread the tomato mixture thinly on to the inside surface of each slice. You can use pesto instead of marinara if you prefer - I live and die by this stuff.

Next, sprinkle both cheeses - as much or as little as you like - top with oregano and a variety of toppings as desired. Pop back into the oven and grill for 5-6 minutes  Or if you're living in a virtual oven, like I am at the moment, you might want to dispense with conventional means of cooking and try placing them under the sun. 

(That's a joke people, it won't work.)

So yup, you need to pop 'em in the oven until the cheese is melted and bubbling and the toppings are heated through.

Best enjoyed lying listlessly in the sun with a glass of Lipton peach ice tea. Enjoy!

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