I haven't got used to the hour change yet. I keep thinking it is earlier than it is. So dinner is late tonight. One minute, I'm stopping work to have a look around blogland, next minute my Man announces he is off to watch the football.
"But it's not on until 7.30, is it?
"It is 7.30!" he replied.
So it was. So I fobbed off any stomach-rumbling complaints with a bag of peanuts and a beer, and got cooking.
It is at moments like this when you really need the Delia 'How to cheat at cooking' method. I watched this new programme last night and was rather underwhelmed. It wasn't so much cooking, as emptying the contents of your freezer into a pan.
I've got a lot of sympathy with people who work long hours, have an hour's commute, then have to cook a meal after shopping en route. I've been there and done that. But if you are the kind of person that Delia was, presumably, aiming to help out with her tip about having a bag of frozen chopped onion to hand, why not just get a ready meal and give up any pretence you are cooking? If you haven't even got the time or inclination to chop an onion, then it's time to admit that either you hate cooking or your life needs a very careful scrutiny for traces of quality. As it was, the programme was a nice observation of Delia's life and friends.
But, I could soon be eating her words. Because, whilst typing this, a peculiar smell is filling the room - a smell, before you blame Dog or worse - is suspiciously like burnt salmon. And the potatoes still aren't cooked.
Luckily, it was an extremely large bag of peanuts, and, judging by the shouting at the telly that I can hear, burnt salmon might be the least of my worries tonight.
