MS has made me more adventurous and given me a desire to ‘try new things’. I’m not sure why, perhaps a case of, what have I got to lose? I have an ongoing list of new things to try, more often added to than attempted. Yesterday, I set out to change this. Every weekend I buy a small child’s height of newspapers and every weekend I read the recipe pages, scanning through the ingredients, the cooking methods, the time taken, think, ‘hmm, that sounds nice’ and quickly turn the page, berating myself for not exposing The Teenager to more exotic food. But yesterday, I promised myself that I would try out the first recipe I came across. Perhaps I should have read The Mail on Saturday first (Jamie’s 15 minute meals – desserts this week, darn it), but I picked up The Guardian as I always turn to the ‘Blind Date’ article – living vicariously.
The divine Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall is leaning casually against his Aga, pots hanging from a driftwood rack behind him. He asks, ‘why don’t we eat more goat?’ Oh. Um, because the local Co-op doesn’t stock it? But in the spirit of adventure, I read on. Perhaps Waitrose have it. Or that obscure butcher I always mean to visit (another tick on ‘try new things’ list!). First ingredient is hay. This is not going well. Helpfully though, Hugh suggests that if I don’t know a farmer, I can always buy small packs of it from a pet shop. Ok, quick visit to Pets At Home too, then.
So, assuming I have my goat and my hay, the next thing I have to do is to soak the hay in a bucket, then drain. I don’t have a bucket, long story. Quick trip to the hardware store too then, Hugh? Nope. Take the goat, the hay and the bucket off my shopping list, scribble down chops, potatoes and veg. Maybe try again next week, but for now, reading the recipe was adventurous enough for me.