James is busy trying to be all macho with his dad putting together our new utility room but there’s no manly way to hold a handheld Dyson or use a microfibre cloth. So tonight’s post comes from me (Paul). Sorry about that.
Blimey. What a day. I knew there was something the matter with us when we starting planning our day at IKEA. ON A BASTARD BANK HOLIDAY. IKEA is pure hell at the best of times – one of these places that makes you think you’re going to have a wonderful day bouncing about on sofa cushions and bean bags and being one big giggling family with a hot dog and an ice cream at the end, when the reality is actually you spending one floor staring intensely into the back of someone’s head because they’re walking far too slowly, and the second floor wanting to just die because you’re SICK OF THIS SHIT ALREADY. So, against our better judgement, that’s what we did today.
But with a difference.
After having the Ikea experience on multiple occasions for big projects (like the kitchen) we’ve eventually got this all down to a tee. So, down to the second, we had the whole day planned out that minimised any interaction with slow-walking, gormless members of the public, ordered a new living room set, refunded a dodgy kitchen door (that I accidentally drilled through – eeehwhatamilike) and threw in a breakfast for good measure. Well, you need that energy if you’re going to mutter ‘FUCKING MOVE’ under your breath every ten seconds.
We arrived on the dot, just as the revolving door started to move and slyly minced our way through all the shortcuts to get straight to the restaurant – the most important part of the day. Once James had wiped away his tears after noticing they’d gotten rid of the potato cake (NOOOOOOOOOOOO) we were straight to the BESTÅ stand to fuck around on some crappy little computer bunging cupboards on walls. If you’ve ever fancied having a sob into some KUNTÅ sidetable go ahead and try and plan your living room on their online planner. It’s what I imagine it’d be like to be Stephen Hawking on speed trying to describe the texture of Quark on that little Atari he’s got strapped to his chair. Stressful isn’t the word. You might as well etch your design it into your arm with a compass and present it the warehouse staff.
I’d fantasised about at least ten ways of dispatching multiple rough sorts on the way to the lighting section. I can never understand the mentality of people who think it’s perfectly acceptable to just stop in the middle of an aisle when there’s practically a stampede of guffawing Geordies rampaging towards you (not unlike that scene in the Lion King but with a lot more polyester and teenage pregnancies). I bet those people are also those that pull their trolley across in a supermarket like a barrier. I’m far too polite (cowardly) though to ever say anything. I just stare at them like I’m trying to burn through them with laser-beam eyes. James isn’t quite so composed and will just barge through shouting at people to ‘MOVE!’, like a hairy snow plough. He almost ran someone off the road simply for having the temerity of having a mauve car.
Fortunately though the whole day was a success, despite all the eejits and lack of an ice cream at the end and we got everything sorted. They even managed to refund us the drawer and door that I ballsed up without a receipt. God love ‘em. As a thank you I was sure to press the green smiley face button that measures people’s happiness as many times as I could. I’d like to think it made a difference.
One way we always make our IKEA experience a little more fun is to watch out for any couples that are eyeing up a particular piece of furniture. If either of them makes a muttering that they quite like it we’ll always come up behind them and then start slagging it off. ‘Oh that’s fucking gopping’, or, “Oh lord, I’ve never seen anything as tacky as THAT in my life’. They’ll soon walk off and have a tiff a little further on. Oh we’re such terrors.
But that’s enough yak. In the spirit all things IKEA we’ve managed to bring together a delicious meatball recipe that’ll cure any takeaway pangs you have… here’s our take on Sweet & Sour Pork Meatballs.
to make our sweet and sour pork meatballs, you’ll need:
for the meatballs:
- 500g pork mince
- 1 carrot, grated
- 2 spring onions, finely sliced
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- ½ tsp black pepper
- ½ salt
- 1 teaspoon dried basil
- 1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
- 1 egg, beaten
- half a pineapple, cut into small chunks (0.25cm)
for the sweet and sour sauce:
- 1 red onion, finely sliced
- 2 cloves garlic minded
- ½ large red pepper, sliced
- ½ green pepper, sliced
- 3 large tomatoes, roughly chopped
- half a pineapple, cut into chunks (halve again into two separate portions)
- 115g tomato puree
- 1 tbsp cornflour (1 syn)
- 1 tbsp cider vinegar
- 1 tbsp lemon juice
- 2 tbsp honey (5 syns)
- ½ tsp salt
- ½ tsp pepper
and this is how you make it:
- preheat your oven to 180°c and line a baking sheet with greaseproof paper
- heat a small saucepan over a medium heat and add a little oil
- add the minced garlic and spring onions and cook for 4-5 minutes until softened and slightly browned. set aside
- in a large bowl mix together the mince, carrot, peppers, egg, basil, salt, pepper, Worcestershire sauce, pineapple pieces and the spring onions
- roll the mixture into even sized balls – squeezing out the liquid if you need to – don’t worry if it seems too wet (fnar), they’ll keep their shape if you squeeze enough liquid out (fnar)
- place the meatballs onto the baking sheet and spray with a little Frylight
- cook for about thirty minutes or until golden brown
- whilst the meatballs are cooking you can make the fruity sauce
- heat a large frying pan over a medium heat and add a little oil
- add the sliced red onion and garlic and stir frequently until the onion is slightly caramelised
- add the peppers one of the pineapple portions and cook for a few minutes until softened
- add the tomatoes, salt and pepper and keep cooking, stirring frequently
- using a sieve, crush down the other half of the pineapple chunks portion into a jug to get the juice
- add the cornflour to the pineapple juice and stir until dissolved
- add the tomato paste, honey, cider vinegar, lemon juice and 120ml water to the jug and mix well
- pour this mixture into the frying pan, bring to a boil and simmer for about ten minutes until the mixture thickens
- serve the meatballs and pour the sauce over the top
Please don’t be put off by the long ingredient list – you’ll probably have a lot of it already in your cupboards and if not, go get some! It’ll all be dead cheap and useful to you for future recipes. Also, don’t be put off by the syn values – yes, this uses honey and cornflour but divided by four this only comes in at 1.5 syns, which is nothing compared to a takeaway. And, it’ll finally give you a reason to use that pineapple you keep buying and leaving to rot on your windowsill…
Technically, because you’re squeezing the juice out of a quarter of a pineapple you could syn it if you’re anal about such things. We didn’t because we take a more common sense approach to tweaking. You can if you wish – I reckon it’d be about half a syn’s worth (if that).