Today I took Marion to the neighbouring market town
of Malton. In Malton Marion was attending a cooking school. This was part of
her Christmas present. It was a day studying fish cooking. It was a soup to
nuts course from the preparation of the fish right through to the cooking. When
I picked her up she was full of it. A smoked haddock starter, dressed crab,
mackerel with rhubarb sauce, scallops, and a plaice dish. There were all sorts
of tips to improve Marion’s cooking.
Now at this stage I guess that your tasted buds are
really going ninety to the dozen. Mine were and are, goodie I thought, a gourmet
dinner this evening, maybe with a good glass of chilled white wine. My
suspicions started to come to the fore when Marion emerged from the school with
just some papers and her handbag. No matter I thought there would be a vat of
soup so Marion will want me to go in and help her bring it out.
So we exchanged the usual pleasantries, the
descriptions of the cooked fish were getting even better and I was getting
hungrier. The moment of truth arrived, “do you want a hand?” I ask, what do you
mean said Marion we ate it all as we cooked it, not one single scallop was left
for Nigel.
So on after all this description it was time for a
rescue operation. Lets have fish at the weekend when our daughter is here. Out
of guilt I gained quick agreement, all was not lost after all. I will give
Marion the opportunity to put her new skills to use.
I concluded that next time I would have to give her
the pastry or bread-making course. My reasoning is that you could not possibly
eat all that you cook on such a course. So more for Nigel, ideal.
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