Having a week at home to get organised for Christmas I’ve decided to give domesticity a try. I’ve got the copy of Nigella’s How to be a Domestic Goddess down from the shelf and I’ve even been reading it.
In her introduction, Ms Lawson exudes her passion for the production of cakes, bakes, pies and other comfort food.
“I neither want to confine you to kitchen quarters nor even suggest that it might be desirable” she insists. “But I do think that many of us have become alienated from the domestic sphere, and that it can actually make us feel better to claim back some of that space, make it conforting rather than frightening”.
So with the whistling winds and constant hill drizzle keeping me indoors, why not give it a try? She makes it sound so appealing. On day one I’ve cleaned the apartment from top to bottom, re-stocked the fridge and freezer and served Himself a satisfying coq au vin on his return from the chalkface.
But I have yet to venture into the recipes. My shopping expedition to the Glossop Tesco revealed that they had just sold out of filo pastry. That very minute?
I’ve never really thought of Glossop as a filo pastry sort of place, those delicate deli sheets seem to be more of a Didsbury pastry activity but the whole of the peak district also got the baking bug in sympathy with me it seems.
So no filo for my chosen Nigella recipe and, as I really do have a fear of making real pastry, and do totally draw the line at any recipe involving lard I was stuck for inspiration.
I’ll return to hunt down some filo tomorrow but in the meantime I seem to have a burned hand (getting the coq au vin out of the oven) a thumb speared on a piece of broken glass and a feeling of exhaustion.
Nigella says: “So what I’m talking about is not being a domestic goddess exactly, but feeling like one”.
So far more like a desperate housewife really but – tomorrow’s a whole new day.