recipe reacharound: sausage stroganott reloaded

The reacharound this week falls to our sausage stroganott supper from 2016, when we both had ice on our feet and a love of alluring alliteration apparently. That blog entry is a corker, even if I do say so myself, detailing a day we spent in Iceland, traipsing around the spitting geysers and turning blue on a flight of stairs. There are parts that seem almost an abstraction now: tourists all rammed into coaches, people sitting down with strangers for dinner. Hopefully this year will see more travel, even if it is forever tainted by the angst of someone coughing near you and not knowing if you’re going to end up hissing away on a ventilator. Anyhoo.

Those who enjoy our photos on Instagram may have noticed a small change in my husband of late – and I’ve certainly referenced his weight loss a few times on here. To that end, in the spirit of a reacharound and also wanting to give my wrists a rest from typing, I asked him to write a blog article about his weight troubles. He duly did, and ever one for detail, somehow managed to spin it out over 8,000 words. I can’t exactly criticise: I’ve never managed to type up a holiday blog without spending 2,500 words detailing my trip to the airport, taking in some random tut about shoelaces and eighty-seven allusions to sucking off truckers. However, you mustn’t fret: despite Paul having a face that has never been knowingly troubled by a smile, he’s actually a very funny writer. If you don’t like the thought of my husband guiding you around his fat bits, scroll quickly to the photos of the food. For everyone else, here’s Paul.


Alright! It’s me, Paul! Don’t worry, I’m not dead. I’m gonna tell you all a story about me. I apologise if some of this you’ve already heard!

I really wanted to avoid calling this whole thing a story about my “JoUrNeY” but there really ain’t any other word for it, so indulge me this one time. I know, I know. I’m typing this all out in the middle of one hell of a health kick so I’m really hoping that by doing so it’ll be one more nudge to keep me going.

See, I’ve always been fat. Always, for as long as I remember. I know I’ve said this before but my earliest memory is creeping downstairs (I would’ve been about 2-3 I think) and filling this small, green plastic bowl with chocolates and biscuits from the cupboards (and then tuning in for  watching ITV Schools. Remember those? I loved ’em). Even when I was at nursery I knew I was fat and was self-conscious about it. Our nursery had a swimming pool (don’t be fooled, I’m common as muck) and I can remember not wanting to go into the water because I just knew I was too fat. This you can then copy and paste for the next 34 years. It’s only after you lose weight that you realise just how being overweight impacted on every single part of your life, and it’s quite sad for me that for nearly every milestone I can recall, my weight has factored somewhere in it.

Now, before I start, I don’t want this to sound like it’s turning into fat shaming or anything like that – my experiences are my own and this is in no way meant to shame anyone into wanting to lose weight. We all have our own reasons for doing what we do and being what we are, and this is mine. Please don’t read this and think that I’m judging anyone at all for anything because I promise I’m not. This is just my journey (oh fuck I said it again) and my reasons and justifications and experiences are all unique to me. Just thought I needed to put that before anyone starts with the angry tweets.

Throughout my entire childhood and well into adulthood (actually, even to this day) I’ve placed a ‘limit’ on myself, especially when it comes to physical stuff about what I can do, but also what I’m willing to do in order to preserve my dignity, and it’s fair to say the limit is set pretty damn low. One of the best things that happened to me at school was breaking my arm and needing an operation because it meant I had 8 weeks off PE (which I managed to stretch to the whole four years…eeh). My education around food was absolutely non-existent. I had a basic idea that fruits and vegetables were good and burgers were bad but it didn’t really stretch much beyond that. Food tech was all about making bread rolls and a fruit salad and something called COSHH and that was all. Education at home was even worse than that (I once lived off Freschetta pizzas for months. Best half-year of my life). Again, copy and paste this part throughout the rest of my life until my early thirties (stay tuned for that).

Food education was one thing. Exercise, another. I did briefly join a gym in my teenage years (I had to lie about my age and say I was sixteen) which, weirdly, came about because I was jealous my mate fingered someone on a bus, and I thought I’d never get to that. Of course, you can guess what end of that arrangement I wanted to be on. And I did quite well at the gym! I really enjoyed it. I would go every day after school for a few hours at a time and didn’t mind it at all. I can’t really say that my strength, stamina or fitness really improved that much though I can only imagine it must have, because back at home I was still being fed the same shite so it probably counteracted each other. But regardless of that I did enjoy it but couldn’t really tell you why. I barely lost any weight (I think it was less than a stone over the year) and my confidence didn’t improve at all, and I didn’t really enjoy doing the exercises (though it was a cute little gym, above a WHSmith) and the sauna was incredibly cruisey which was nice. The routine was something new that I latched on to and it became a part of just a thing I did and so it was easier to keep up. I couldn’t afford to go to the gym after that initial year (poor kid innit) and as soon as I did stop going any promises I made to myself that I’d go jogging or lift tins of sweetcorn of course went out the window and after a week I was back to exactly where I was before I even started. A few years later when I got a job I did join another gym (the nice one I went to before turned into a ladies only one) but I didn’t go a single time. I didn’t even go to the induction. I just could not get myself into that headspace to get into it. It seemed like a chore. And I couldn’t be fucked.

The only time I did manage to lose weight after that time and before meeting James was solely out of necessity. In a trademark act of teenage stupidity I made a sudden move to Portsmouth, of course failing to factor in that I would have rent and bills to pay in one of the most expensive areas in the country on a minimum wage. I lost weight because I could not afford to eat, and nor could I afford to travel to work. I had to walk 4-5 miles a day to a train station that was cheaper to get a season ticket to, and once I’d paid for the essential things on pay day (rent, season ticket, phone top-up, fags) I’d not only have spent my entire wages, but another £100 on top. If I did a few extra shifts I could sometimes make enough for a £40-50 shop but of course, being me with no education or experience of cooking that didn’t go far at all. I survived pretty much on the biscuits in the staff room and whatever I could ponce from work after all the patients had been served their dinner (I’ll never forget the kindness of Dariusz who would always try and save me a whole meal. Thank you, Dariusz! Also, if you’re reading, I totally would).

I lasted about 9 months and lost nearly twelve stone in weight. Thankfully, being young and nicotined up I could get by without feeling too ill (compare that with today where if I don’t get my routine Fruit Corner as near as 12pm as possible I get the shakes). I did feel the benefits of losing weight. For once in my life I felt a little bit attractive and had a few men on the go (whatamilike) and reasonably fit (as fit as you could be with 40 roll-ups a day sitting on your lungs). But still, I didn’t have the knowledge about eating so my default would always be junk, like pizzas, crisps, chocolate. I still couldn’t cook a single meal other than mince ‘n’ mash. I couldn’t even make cheese on toast. I promise I’m not exaggerating. So while I was as slender as I had ever been (but still not skinny) it was only temporary. But that part of my life came to an end, because who came mincing up the driveway one day in a rugby kit that had never seen a grass stain?

James!

So this little mincer came into my life and the, rest, they say, is history.


Good place to leave it! The blog post I mean, not my husband. Although make me an offer. At this point in the marriage I’d trade for a halfway decent sandwich.

sausage stroganott reloaded

Genuinely feel like this sausage stroganott reloaded plate might be one of the best photos yet

sausage stroganott reloaded

The sausage stroganott reloaded comes in at 195 calories which is absolutely nowt – fact

sausage stroganott reloaded

Prep

Cook

Total

Yield 4 servings

We're insisting on calling this stroganott because I just can't do another 'Strong Enough / Stroganoff' series of jokes again. I know I know, but I'm tired. It's OK though, I don't need your sympathy - there's nothing you can say or do for me. I'll see myself out. The original recipe didn't actually take too much tweaking, more's the pity, but we've added a few bits and bobs. 

We served ours with braised red cabbage and mashed potato, but those aren't factored into the calories so make sure you add them on if you copy the plate completely. As usual, calorie counts are approximate using the NHS calorie checker, so don't shit the bed if you work them out a little higher. Only 195 calories for the sausage stroganott though, that's a bargain!

Ingredients

  • eight sausages of your choice - we used Richmond meat-free sausages because they were reduced and we're tight as a tick's nipsy
  • one large white onion, sliced finely
  • one big handful of mushrooms, chopped finely (any will do, we used a forest mix) (and feel free to leave them out, swap them for pepper)
  • one large red sweet pepper, sliced fine
  • four rashers of streaky bacon, chopped
  • pinch of salt and pepper
  • one clove of garlic
  • one teaspoon of paprika
  • 250ml of beef stock
  • couple of tablespoons of gravy powder

Instructions

  • firstly, we appreciate this is no more a stroganoff than it is a plate of chips, but the naming conventions of the twochubbycubs accords demand it
  • fry off your sausages - we used our Instant Dual Drawer, took fifteen minutes, then slice and set aside
  • whilst they cook, fry off your onion, bacon, mushrooms if using and pepper until softened
  • mince and add the garlic and cook for a minute or two more
  • add the paprika, sausages, stock and a pinch of salt and pepper and allow to bubble away for a few minutes
  • add gravy to thicken
  • serve up with whatever you want 

Notes

Recipe

  • a note on the mushrooms - Paul isn't a fan, but if you use decent mushrooms like the forest mix we suggested, they add good flavour and don't taste overwhelmingly of mushrooms - so do try

Books

  • on a slimming regime and want 100+ ideas for meals that taste amazing - then try our Fast & Filling cookbook: order yours here! 
  • still on that regime after finishing the last sentence - then try 100+ more recipes here: click here to order
  • want to keep track of your results and joy and happiness - use our planner: here

Tools

Disclosure: the links above are affiliate links. This means that, at zero cost to you, we will earn an affiliate commission if you click through the link and make a purchase. Which is handy, as I accidentally chipped one of our Le Creuset mugs putting it into the dishwasher and Paul's face hasn't recovered yet

Courses dinner

Cuisine dinner-dinner-dinner-dinner-BAAATMAN

Got leftover sausages? Use them in our sausage and boston beans recipe from earlier in the month – click the image below to be whisked straight there!

Let us step into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure!

Jx

recipe: sticky picky sausages

Sticky picky sausages are presented for your consideration, and aren’t you glad it’s not Sticky Vicky sausages? Long time readers of our blog will remember our trip to Benidorm many moons ago where we were ever so disappointed not to see the Sticky Vicky tribute act: but no-one wants a link of sausages pulled out of there, now do they? We do these in an airfryer, not in a damp cavern. But first, some chitter chatter.

Our first ever cooking demonstration was a complete success! We were asked by the good people at Instant to nip down to Situ Live and show off what could be cooked in their new Dual Drawer airfryer. Now you must understand, I’ll cheerfully say yes to anything in the heat of the moment and spend the next few weeks regretting my life choices so this wasn’t such a big deal for me, but Paul was absolutely bricking it. Despite being an absolute legend on the radio, TV and literally everything we ever do together, he’s not one for public speaking. But more on that in a moment.

We travelled down on the Friday night, taking advantage of the Seatfrog app to score an upgrade into first class. First class train travels always promises luxury and comfort when in reality, you’re in a slightly more padded chair listening to wankers moo at their wives for several hours. Even so, the chance to stare moonily out of the window as you’re whisked across the country is always welcome, until you realise it’s winter and there’s nothing but darkness outside so you end up glaring at a greasy reflection of your own face like you’re in an 80s power ballad video. Paul was effortless in his good company though, keeping me entertained by putting his earbuds in the moment we sat down and spending the rest of the journey rubbing my leg with his muddy trainers so I look like I’d shat myself by the time we arrived. I will say though, the onboard catering was lovely. I had braised ox cheeks (story of my life) and a chocolate pudding, and they thoughtfully accompanied this with white wine that they’d put in the microwave alongside the beef to make sure it was scalding hot.

Paul didn’t order any of the free food because he’s healthy and virtuous and one MLM quote away from being a Hun, which naturally made me furious. In fact he couldn’t quite make out what I was saying over his earbuds but we agreed I’d definitely called him a Hun.

We stayed at the Premier Inn Kings Cross Hub Zip or whatever it’s called and no complaints there – I’ve put my head down in this hotel a few times over the years and always been satisfied – although there was a baffling moment where the barman told me they didn’t do cocktails and never had. I pointed out the cocktail menu I was holding in my hand and asked whether he thought I’d brought it from home but this bit of levity didn’t land. Weary that if I pressed the issue his brain might have melted and leaked from his ears in a thick soup, I switched us to cider and left it at that.

The event then: we had our own kitchen in a mock house setup in the middle of Westfield Shopping Centre and had planned to cook several rounds of ‘picky’ food that people could try as they walked around, including the sausages you see below. We were to talk about what we were doing and I’d prepared a load of jokes etc but in the end, it was far more conversational and sedate than I had built up in my head. Not going to lie: that was a relief, as it meant we were far more relaxed and ended up having a really, really good time. Thanks to those who came and said hello!

One thing I’ve learned is that I have a nervous tic – as soon as my mic was wired up, my nose thought that was the best time to give up any structural integrity and start everything slooshing out. You have no idea how hard it is to surreptitiously sniff when you’re broadcasting across a shopping centre floor, you truly don’t. It’s why in the video you’ll see me constantly twitching my nose as though I’m Claire from Steps without the talent and range.

Anyway. You can watch us by clicking on the link below – sorry for the audio quality at the start, but that’s just my accent.

Instant Pot UK (@instantpotuk) • Instagram photos and videos

We spent the rest of the weekend wandering around London (according to my watch, and the fact my feet look like corned beef, we walked over 30km yesterday alone) and agreeing that the fake-Sloaney accent is a terrible thing. Fronds are for flowers, not for socialising. Highlights, kept brief, include Paul telling me off for accidentally wrecking someone’s date (and then sweetly putting it right) in one of the gay pubs, going to the Tate Modern before realising we aren’t ones for art galleries and nevermoreso then when they’re awash with people trying to outsmug each other, and me treating myself to an oyster. Of course, I was reminded immediately why I have only tried them once: they’re utterly revolting. But would it be a twochubbycubs trip away if I wasn’t swallowing a mouthful of something salty? No.

On the way back to the station I did my usual thing of falling in love with wherever I’ve just been and told Paul that I think we ought to move to London to have adventures. He pointed out that a) we have a dog now and b) I’d be dead within two months maximum from ‘misadventure’ and we agreed we were probably best staying where we are. He’s a poor sport.

But, a brilliant one. To go back to my original point right at the start, he was absolutely petrified about getting up to speak in front of people and doubly so cooking in front of them. I swallowed my own worries to concentrate on geeing him up on the taxi over but didn’t really need to: as soon as we were live, he was just amazing. Forgive me a small indulgence here but I’ve seen him flourish in the last year since losing weight: his confidence is high and he faces every challenge head-on. Having been witness to him retreating into a shell of fat and overeating in 2020, it’s beautiful to see. To that end, he’s done a series of blog posts which are coming soon which explains his whole ‘battle’ and I can tell you know, they’re brilliant. I really feel like I have my fun husband back, and I absolutely love it.

Even if the stupid arse doesn’t take advantage of the free food when we’re out and about. But fret not, we can iron out those wrinkles. With an iron.

The sticky picky sausages, then.

sticky picky sausages

Sticky picky sausages – 290 calories for ten, which is nothing really

sticky picky sausages

Goomba with his eyes on the prize: though he looks fuming, he’s just about the sticky picky sausages life

sticky picky sausages

Prep

Cook

Total

Yield 40 sausages

These sticky picky sausages can be done in the oven just as easily as an Airfryer, so don't get your knickers in a twist if you're without one of those. The marinade is really easy but you can adjust to add spice, take it out, make it sweeter, whatever you like. And although we've used sesame seeds, feel free to drop them to save a few calories.

These are perfect to make a big batch of if you've got people over and need picky food. Of course, if you do have people over, make sure that you tell everyone you had no idea it was actually a party and it was all a terrible surprise. It's not so relevant now mixing is legal again, but you know, err on the side of caution. Just because our auricomous, shambling Pinocchio of a Prime Minister can seemingly do what he pleases with absolutely no worry of punishment, doesn't mean you can.

Calorie counts are approximate, as ever. 290 calories for ten.

Ingredients

  • forty precooked cocktail sausages - the ones that look like tiny uncircumcised willies
  • two teaspoons of honey
  • one tablespoon of chilli oil
  • one tablespoon of soy sauce
  • one tablespoon of chilli sauce
  • chilli flakes and sesame seeds

I've mentioned before the crispy chilli in oil that we absolutely adore - we used it here instead of the chilli oil but I haven't included it in the recipe because it can be quite hard to find. However, if you're ready for one of the tastiest foods I've ever had, you can order it here

Instructions

  • tumble all the sausages around in the marinade (leaving the chilli flakes and sesame seeds til the end)
  • airfry until sticky
  • or roast them in the oven
  • scatter the sesame seeds / chilli flakes on top
  • I feel a bit cheeky sticking the recipe on, such as it is, but you wanted it

Notes

Recipe

  • not a fan of spice - swap the chilli oil for sesame oil and the chilli sauce for a wholegrain mustard

Books

  • what's got 100 recipes and lots of knob-jokes? Our second cookbook: order yours here! 
  • what's got 100 more recipes and a not so exciting front page? Our first cookbook: click here to order
  • what's good for standing on when you need something from high up in the cupboard? Our planner: here

Tools

Disclosure: the links above are affiliate links. This means that, at zero cost to you, we will earn an affiliate commission if you click through the link and make a purchase. Which is handy, as we accidentally ordered a pint in London and that's us on our second mortgage.

Courses snacks, picky food

Cuisine twochubbycubs

Want something else to pick at? Try our jerk pork and pineapple skewers! Click the picture, complete with our cheesy live laugh love style slogan on the bottom, to go to the recipe.

pork and pineapple skewers

I’m off. Take care.

Like the mountains in springtime, like a walk in the rain.

J

recipe: bummus with sausage

Bummus with sausage: I mean, honestly. You’re going to have to hear us out on this one: we bloody love houmous here at Chubby Towers Reborn and in the absence of the inclination to go to the shops and buy some, bummus was born. It’s a houmous made with baked beans which, depending on how strong your stomach is, will either delight or disgust you. It’s me taking my shirt off but in spread form, which, to be fair, if I’m taking my shirt off I’m usually in my spread form anyway. There’s logic here though: a houmous is usually made from chickpeas and what are haricot beans if not the gym-jacked sister of the chickpea? We aren’t pretending for a moment that this is a recipe for purists so please don’t shout at us, but listen, if you’re in a pinch for ingredients and you want something tasty, the bummus with sausage is for you. Recipe below.

Of course, you may be thinking that this is twochubbycubs, and we’re known for our smut and crappy puns, so of course we just came up with ‘bummus’ and worked backwards. First of all, how dare you, and second, of course we did. But it works and it’s so very us!

But it did make me remember a message we got over six years ago via the twochubbycubs page from a self-righteous woman in Cambridge (hi Cath!) who took it upon herself to message Paul to tell him she was shocked he had gone to Cambridge University because he was so uncouth and vulgar with his mannerisms and that we would never amount to anything if we carried on in the same vein. You see, her son had gone to Cambridge and he was ever such a good boy, whereas Paul, with his mouth like a sewer and his clothes fished from a river, was clearly degenerate. I pointed out on that blog entry that being a Cambridge student is no barometer to good behaviour and that I had once been asked by a lad who went to Cambridge to pee in his bum, so you know, whatever. I stand by that.

There’s been a few times over the years when we’ve wondered whether we should change the tone of the blog to make it a bit more ‘acceptable’ and it’s a fair thought: we would probably sell a few more books if Pascal and Canesten could sit little Hedgefund and Waitrose No.1 down after family lacrosse and hoot and chortle their way through our pages. But, meh: we’re nine years into this schtick by this point and I don’t think I have it in me to cook a recipe with aubergine and not squeeze eighty-seven dick jokes into it.

It is crazy though when we think back to six years ago and where we were. We had no idea then that this would ever spin out to become such a big thing and even now, it still feels utterly surreal to be writing about having bestselling cookbooks in the Sunday Times and hundreds of thousands of you sitting with one of our books in your kitchen. We’ve seen The Slimming Foodie and Slimming Eats go through the same experience and it is exhilarating to watch good people make a dream come true. Forgive us the treacle but it’s true. It’s been pointed out to me a couple of times that whenever I talk about twochubbycubs and its achievements that I always downplay everything and that is purely because it still feels alien to me. But that’ll pass, and we remain bloody proud of our achievements! And on that note, and I know we’ve been teasing something for aaaages, we have a big announcement coming very soon on the cookbook front. WHAT COULD IT B3? Swish!

Anyway, going back to the original point: Cath and her self-righteous little message to Paul telling him he would never amount to anything. We do hope she’s still reading at this point. I mean, they always are: they’ll say they’re never reading the page again and then you’ll spot them in the active members list waiting for someone to slap them on the back and tell them how right they are so they can feel ever so clever. We’ve waited almost six years to do this, but we wanted to reply properly to you directly so you really felt like your message was acknowledged…


Love you Cath!

Let’s get down to the bummus with sausage then, because it honestly won’t keep for a moment more.

bummus with sausage

It does look a bit goatsee, this bummus with sausage, but it’s tasty AF

We used vegetarian sausages for this bummus with sausage but if you want meat, go for it

Chilli sauce is just the thing to top this bummus with sausage, but feel free to leave it off

bummus with sausage

Prep

Cook

Total

Yield 4 bagels

Bummus with sausage: might as well send this directly to Slimming Hurled right now because we are aware it looks totally gopping but you know what, it tastes bloody good and that's the end of it. We have included the bagel and sausages in the calorie count too so for 375 calories, you're getting a full meal! 

Of course, the calorie counting is done via the NHS calorie check and Nutracheck and is meant as an approximate guide. Your experience may very depending on the sausages, beans and bagel you choose.

Ingredients

  • one tin of baked beans, any you like but we use Branston because they're the best and I'll fight anyone who says otherwise
  • a teaspoon of chipotle paste
  • four vegetarian sausages (or use meat if you want)
  • four bagels

Instructions

  • toast your bagels and fry off your sausages
  • tip half of the beans into your blender
  • tip the other half into a sieve and wash the sauce off
  • add those in with the others and the chipotle and blend until smoothish
  • assemble your bagel

Notes

Recipe

  • you can mix this up by adding other bits and pieces - garlic and ginger would go well, or even keeping it plain
  • chilli isn't a bad shout either

Books

  • there's over 100 attractively photographed recipes in book two - you must try it: order yours here! 
  • book one has a recipe for four different houmouses and they're great: click here to order
  • we've got a planner too: here

Tools

Disclosure: the links above are affiliate links. This means that, at zero cost to you, we will earn an affiliate commission if you click through the link and make a purchase. Which is handy, as Goomba smokes only the finest cigars.

Courses breakfast

Cuisine breakfast I say

If you do try this, show us!

You know, I’m something of a food scientist myself!

J

recipe: super speedy sausage and leek skillet

Super speedy sausage and leek skillet time. Now, in the spirit of openness and honesty, I’m not entirely sure what a skillet is and should probably avoid using it, but let’s roll the dice. All I know is Paul made this for dinner the other day and it was bloody glorious, so here we are.

Before we start: if you’re just starting out on your diet and you want our book, it’s currently at time of writing £8 on Amazon or 99p on Kindle – that’s a steal! Click here to order that.

Speaking of Paul, it’s our anniversary tomorrow – twelve years of marriage. We’re not planning on getting gifts for one another because who needs that extra level of administration in their lives (plus Paul’s birthday is 8 January, and Valentines is the month after, so frankly that’s all my goodwill spent), however Google reliably informs me that the gifts for twelve years are silks and pearl. That’s easy then: I’ll blurt on his neck and dab it off after with a silk handkerchief. No wonder he looks so young!

Google also suggests that twelve years is almost 4400 days, which is just a bewildering amount of time, not least because Paul must have spent a good two thirds of them moaning at me for piddling on the bathroom floor, snoring too loudly or not observing the sanctity of our marriage. A stickler for the rules, always. But see I remember when I was young and six weeks felt like an eternity, or the weeks leading up to Christmas passing like cold treacle. You could throw a stone and hit the edge of what I considered my future. I could never imagine such a horror as being 25, let alone 36, and yet here I find myself, wincing at 95% of my Spotify Suggestions for being too ‘loud’ and making thankful ‘oooh‘ noises when we approach a particularly comfortable looking bench when out walking the dog.

You know when it hit home though? We were at our mates for New Years Eve and when the clock hit midnight and the big London firework display was kicking off, Paul turned to me and said ‘we should go next year’. Not sure why, if he wants loud explosions and pyrotechnical effects he only needs to step into our back yard, but he has said the same thing to me every year for twelve years now, save for the night I spent crying into the toilet whilst I tried desperately not to pebbledash the wall behind me thanks to some undercooked chicken. And every year we agree we will do it and then we put it off and at this point the only way I’ll see it is if they tip me into the Thames after my acid cremation. That’s what Paul and I have decided on by the way: rather than burning the body after death they dissolve you in acid and flush you down the toilet, though I imagine it’s a shade more glamorous than that. Makes sense: I lived through the foot and mouth crisis and I know what 1,100kg of beef smells like when it’s on fire. I’m doing you a favour.

This may read like I’ve got a touch of melancholy and I really haven’t – I’m actually quite content with my position in time – I can grow a salt and pepper beard and continue my slide into being a Daddy, for one. I own two pairs of slippers (padded for inside and waterproofs for outdoors) and smoke a pipe, so I’m halfway there already. But I have realised that time is hurtling by without a care for my procrastinations and I absolutely need to pull my socks up and course correct all the things I’ve been letting slide. This is as close to a ‘new year new me’ post that I parodied in the last entry but here we are. There’s a bit in Bridget Jones where she gives up smoking and shaves her legs in the bath and that’s where I am now, and if that just so happens to lead to me getting knobbed by Daniel Cleaver then that’s all the better. I always thought he was the better choice: Mark Darcy was such a wet weekend. Controversial but true.

To that end, after I’ve finished typing this up, I’m going to book a hotel for New Years Eve in London – if anything, the cost will give Paul and I something to moan about until we hit the thirteenth anniversary: the present for that is fur. That’s easy, he can fall asleep on my chest and spend the morning coughing up my chest hair.

Before we get to the recipe, I just wanted to set out how the blog is going to work going forward. Because this is now my full time job – Christ – I’m probably going to update it more than four times a year. As part of that, although most of the recipes will continue to be low calorie, we’ll also be posting other stuff that we’re cooking. For example, one of my (nineteen) resolutions of the year is to learn how to bake bread, because that is the rock and roll life I lead now, but I’ll be sticking those online as I go. I’m not going to promise that each recipe will come with the usual 2,000 words about absolutely nothing relevant, but it should mean that I get a chance to write more. In reality, I’ll probably update three times and then take up swimming. But, a boy can dream.

The super speedy sausage and leek skillet, then.

speedy sausage and leek skillet

As you can see – the speedy sausage and leek skillet doesn’t look like much, but it tastes good!

speedy sausage and leek skillet

The speedy sausage and leek skillet freezes surprisingly well, but don’t be adding the fried egg before you freeze it, obvs

super speedy sausage and leek skillet

Prep

Cook

Total

Yield 4 servings

One of those recipes which you can throw together without really thinking, which is always a plus in these workaday world. We have worked out the calories via Nutracheck and of course, they are a rough estimate: it all depends on what sausages you use, as some are more calorific than others. We've used Tesco reduced fat sausages for this but feel free to swap it out. This recipe is based on a Gousto recipe that we tried during the Christmas holiday and we've gussied it up a smidge to make it a bit more slimming. As is our way!

Ingredients

  • two medium leeks
  • four large eggs
  • 800g of potatoes - we use Vivaldi potatoes from Sainsbury's because we think we're better than you
  • 8 reduced fat sausages
  • 2 tbsp wholegrain mustard
  • a bunch of chives, finely sliced

Instructions

  • slice the leeks in half lengthways, then slice horizontally into little half-moons
  • dice the potatoes (skin on) into small cubes
  • place the diced potatoes into a large pan and cover with boiling water, sprinkle in a little salt and bring back to the boil over a high heat
  • cook for 10-15 minutes until tender, then drain
  • return the pan to the hob over a medium-high heat and spray with a little oil
  • add the leeks to the pan and cook for 5-6 minutes, until softened
  • meanwhile, score each of the sausages with a sharp knife and remove the skins (chuck the skins in the bin, or  give to a hungry dog)
  • add the sausage meat to the pan and stir regularly for 5-6 minutes, breaking them up with the spoon as you go
  • once the sausages are cooked, add the potatoes back to the pan and cook for another 6-8 minutes
  • stir through the mustard and then add half of the chives to the pan, stir again, and serve onto plates
  • put the pan back over a medium heat and add a little more oil
  • crack the eggs into the pan and cook or 2-3 minutes
  • serve the eggs over the hash and sprinkle over the remaining chives

Notes

Recipe

  • if you're buying fresh chives, make sure you stick the rest of the plant in a wee pot on the windowsill and water it from the bottom - don't let those bastards at Big Chive get you down
    • they really know their onions, after all
      • oh do one
  • if you're not arsed about the calories, swap the sausages for higher fat beasties and you'll be living the dream
  • doubly so if you add chopped chorizo in with the sausage meat, just saying

Books

  • our Fast & Filling cookbook has been out for a year now and still gets excellent reviews: order yours here! 
  • the original cookbook is also a delight and if you're wanting a good place to start, it's here: click here to order
  • and if you're on a diet, you can track your progress using our diet planner: here

Tools

  • the mandolin slicer that we always recommend is currently cheap on Amazon and absolutely worth a few quid - though please exercise caution with those fingertips of yours - you can buy it here

Disclosure: the links above are affiliate links. This means that, at zero cost to you, we will earn an affiliate commission if you click through the link and make a purchase. Which is handy, as us whores must have our trinkets.

Courses dinner

Cuisine one-pot

Easy! If you’re looking for something a bit more substantial than the speedy sausage and leek skillet then can we recommend our one post sausage and boston beans served on top of a jacket potato? Because it’s fancy, just like you. Click the photo below to go straight there, though the updated recipe will be posted in a few days!

All our love etc

J&P

sausage colcannon bake: utterly delicious

Here for the sausage colcannon bake? Of course you are, and I’ll get to it, but I first I want to express my dismay. If you’re only here for the food, scroll down to the pictures!

A year or so ago I posted that I was going to try and ‘be nicer’, less quick to temper, warmer to strangers and generally, a more affable guy.

I finally got round to implementing that today and decided that from the moment I got up until the moment I went to bed, I’d be ‘good’. I let Paul get up and make my breakfast without intervening (I know, I’m a joy). That went well, and I was rewarded with scrambled eggs made from duck eggs as a result.

I then set off for work, giving the neighbour a cheery wave as I left the street. As usual, he stood there with his face that would make an onion cry and point-blank ignored me. He always does this, just because I once had the temerity to put up a Vote Labour sign and I don’t shit myself every morning when I read the latest tripe in the tabloids) (oh, and the cock-loving doesn’t endear me to him, either). Off to a good start! The short drive in took an hour because someone put their brake lights on in Cornwall and thus every car in existence had to immediately stop. Nevermind, we’ll get there eventually, there’s no rush!

Against better judgement, I flashed some painted harlequin in a financed-Audi out at a tricky junction. Normally, given they were driving an Audi and were therefore the worst people in the world (you know I’m right) I’d have sailed past sticking my fingers surreptitiously up on the side of my face, but no, be nice! Did I get a wave? A blink of acknowledgement? A smile? Did I balls. I did however enjoy a far more exciting drive as she wandered all over the road in front of me with her phone in her hand. It’s hard to remain focussed on being nice when you’re hoping for her tyres to blow-out and impale her on a broken street-light. But hey. Worse things happen in Rome.

Work passed in its usual way and you better believe my day was lightened when someone on the phone asked ‘to speak to someone who could actually be of some use’ despite them ringing the wrong number entirely and asking for the wrong person. Doesn’t matter, James: smile when you dial hun. A quick toilet break was full of deleting posts from our group from people who think the rules don’t apply to them and no, really, I want a facebook full of ‘how many syns in my shitty knock-off Muller yoghurt’. But hey! They know no better!

Luckily, I had the afternoon off – plenty of opportunities to smile at people and pay it forward. I decided to drive to Craster and do a nice five mile trek up to the ruined castle and then around in a loop. Lovely! I especially loved the last four miles of windy road which was only made better by being stuck behind a caravan – who needs a sea-view when you’ve got the Turbo-Sprinter Deluxe 1999 in puce weaving in front of you at a slow crawl, driven by two people who died last year. Clearly pulling over was beyond them, and why would they? Why, they have as much right to be on that road as anyone else.

I pulled into the car-park only to find all 80 of the parking spaces taken up by 60 cars, all parked rakishly over the lines to ensure no-one scratched their expensive, fancy motors. I sat and waited – big grin now – as an elderly couple doddled back to their car – at last, a free space. Nope: they opened up their wee tupperware boxes of sandwiches and sat chewing themselves to death. My grin, now rictus, would only have been dashed had they choked on a stray bit of egg salad. It’s always egg salad, presumably because it masks the smell of decomposition that occurs when you seal the aged in a red-hot Suzuki Swift.

Ticked off, I parked outside of one of the bays and minced into town – I say minced, I can barely walk at the moment as I spent an hour doing squats on Monday and now every step looks like I’ve shit myself. Nevertheless, I gamely struggled along the path, approached the gate to access the field where the walk started only for some old fart in altogether too much knitwear to shut it pretty much in my face despite watching me painfully hobble up to it. I don’t think it’s too much of an over-reaction to hope he’d do a Harold Bishop and tumble unnoticed into the sea, dashing his beetroot-nosed skull on the sharp rocks, then be swept out to sea unable to call for help because he’d been paralysed from the fall and only had a lifetime of regret and missed opportunity to comfort him as he gasped his last in the water. On I went.

A sheep gave me a shitty look. I stepped in a cow-pat. I got stuck behind a group of haw-haw-jolly-good ramblers braying on about their hiking boots for a good ten minutes, unable to slip past because I can’t walk at speed. The castle itself was fascinating and the man behind the counter had a lovely Scottish burr in his voice that almost made me pay another year’s membership to English Heritage, save for the fact I had to wait ten minutes whilst a coach party dithered and dathered at him about places to go in the area. I wanted to suggest the crematorium, but kept quiet. Be nice. When I was eventually served, all my positivity had disappeared, and paying £1.90 for a Diet Coke did little to help. I finished my walk in a gloom and made my way back to the car, only stopping to leap out of the way of a giant pristine white Range Rover (of course) driven by a gammon of a man who thundered down the road with his phone to his ear. Again.

I realised at that point that being nice was to have no reward for me, and bollocks, let’s get back to being mean-spirited and cruel. As I was leaving the car-park I spotted another pair of Saga-louts pulling in and driving around looking for a space. I handed them my pay-and-display ticket and trilled ‘it’s good for another few hours’. They looked positively delighted, and for a moment I felt guilty. See, in a fit of ill-temper, I’d deliberately given them the pay and display ticket from a different car-park from last week, and I know they’re shit-hot on parking control in Craster so that means they’ve doubtless got a ticket.

Ooops.

My drive back was far more pleasant as I spent most of it deciding how I’d ruin the Earth if I ever became an overlord. Let’s be honest: it’s so much more fun being an arsehole, yes? But if you see me out and about, give me a smile. Try and change my view on life. Make me hopeful that there’s something other than blackness out there.

Tell you what will cheer you up though: our sausage colcannon bake. You’ll love it, because it’s easy to make and tastes damn fine. Let’s do the recipe.

sausage colcannon bake

sausage colcannon bake

sausage colcannon bake

Prep

Cook

Total

Yield 4 servings

Sausage colcannon bake - listen, it's sausage casserole topped with mashed tatties and kale. It's proper comfort food and listen, it's not going to make itself. It freezes well, serves four (MASSIVE portions, mind) and is easy to knock out. Get on it!

Ingredients

  • 6 medium-sized potatoes, cut into large chunks
  • 80g kale
  • 1 egg
  • 8 sausages (see notes)
  • 1 large onion, sliced
  • 2 tbsp plain flour (4 syns)
  • 3 beef stock cubes dissolved in 500ml boiling water
  • 125g sliced mushrooms
  • 100g frozen peas
  • 1tsp Worcestershire sauce
  • 1 bay leaf

Instructions

  • preheat the oven to 200ºc
  • put the potatoes in a large saucepan, fill with cold water until covered and bring to the boil
  • reduce the heat and simmer for fifteen minutes, then drain
  • meanwhile, splash in a little bit of water to another pan and add the kale
  • cook over a high heat for 3 minutes until softened a bit
  • crack the egg into the potatoes and mash with the kale and add some salt and pepper to taste, and keep to one side
  • next, cook the sausages however you like (see notes)
  • spray a large frying pan with some oil and add the onions
  • fry over a medium-high heat for about 10 minutes, until browned and beginning to caramelise
  • add the flour and whisk with the onions for about a minute, then slowly add a little stock at a time, continually whisking, until you have a thickened gravy
  • add the sausages to the pan along with the mushrooms, peas, Worcestershire sauce and bay leaf and give a good stir
  • tip into a large dish and gently spoon the mash on top, spreading evenly across the top
  • bake in the oven for 20-25 minutes

Notes

  • we used the syn free sausages from our Muscle Food deal in this - you can use whichever sausages you like but remember to check the syns
  • you can leave the egg out of the mash if you like but it really does make it taste creamy - trust us! if you prefer to use milk or butter or whatever you can, just remember to syn it
  • we cooked the sausages in our Tefal Actifry (best to remove the paddle) and you can cook yours however you like, under the grill, in a frying pan, Optigrill, George Foreman, Airfryer... it's up to you!
  • not a fan of kale? swap it with whatever you like
  • use this oil sprayer instead of Fry Light if you don't want your pans to be ruined

Courses soul food

Cuisine comfort

See? Easy! Want some more comfort dishes? Why not have a review of some of the following:

I’m off to smile at people.

J

proper sausage rolls with a veggie alternative

Sausage rolls indeed!

Because putting a bit of mince in a wrap does not equal sausage rolls. Honestly, we weren’t going to bother with a sausage rolls recipe but having seen people passing off wraps stuffed with mince as sausage rolls, we felt we had to. Remember, Slimming World is about eating proper food, not pretend food, using your syns to eat something someone on a diet would eat, as opposed to pretend fake-food. The proof, as they say, is almost certainly in the pudding.

Although that pudding will probably be a smear of cinnamon and a photocopy of a chocolate bar wrapped in a Weight Watchers wrap and called a cinnamon swirl. Maybe on other sites.

Anyway, a quick word before we get to that recipe. Keen observers may have noticed that our recipe / blog output has slowed down a bit the last few weeks. There’s a reason for that but alas, I can’t go into it! We are trying to balance it back out, but at the moment we’re working during the day, coming home and going out to work on something else. But the end is in sight, and we have some cracking recipes coming up. So do bear with us, please! Remember, if you need inspiration, we have:

So there’s always something to read! Right, shall we do sausage rolls?

proper sausage rolls

sausage rolls

proper sausage rolls and a veggie version

Prep

Cook

Total

Yield 16 sausage rolls

The recipe for the sausage rolls isn't much of a recipe at all, so we thought we'd bulk it out by including a veggie alternative that isn't just using vegetarian sausages, although you can do so. The veggie version is called pea pastizzi and comes from Sabrina Ghayour's FEASTS book that we keep banging on about! 

Ingredients

to make the meaty sausage rolls (makes ten)

  • 100g ready rolled light puff pastry (20 syns)
  • whatever six sausages you like - we use syn-free sausages from Musclefood, but you can use anything here
  • one red onion chopped
  • a pinch of garlic
  • pepper
  • an egg

to make the veggie pea alternatives (makes ten):

  • 100g ready rolled light puff pastry (20 syns)
  • two large fat garlic cloves
  • one large onion, chopped fine
  • 300g tin of marrowfat peas
  • 1 tablespoon of curry powder
  • 1 large egg
  • pinch of salt

Instructions

for the meaty sausage rolls:

  • preheat the oven to 200°c
  • squeeze the sausagemeat from the sausages and fry in the pan with the finely chopped onion and garlic - the little bit of fat will soften the onions, so no need to add oil
  • add a good twist of pepper
  • take your puff pastry, roll it out - I prefer to actually roll it out a little thinner than it usually is, but you know, up to you
  • cut into ten squares
  • spoon the cooked sausage meat into each square and fold over the sides into a nice roll shape
  • wash with beaten egg and into the oven they go for 20 minutes or so to cook nicely
  • if you want, cut them in half again when cooked for 1-syn taster night sausage rolls

Easy! Do you see what I mean though - it's an easy recipe! Cook off the sausagemeat, add into puff pastry and cook.

for the veggie pea alternatives:

  • soften the onions by cooking them off in a little oil, adding the garlic as they get nice and golden
  • add the peas, curry powder, pinch of pepper and a good dash of dalt
  • allow everything to cook for about five minutes and soften and mash gently
  • do as you did above - roll out your pastry, spoon in your mixture, fashion into rolls, egg-wash the top and whack them in the oven for twenty minutes or so

Notes

Courses taster night, samples, picnic

Looking for more taster night ideas?

Yum!

J

sausage and white wine risotto: low syn and gorgeous

Sausage and white wine risotto, if you don’t mind!

We’ve come to the end of our second bootcamp and can’t quite believe it. For two lads whose idea of exercise was a casual Sunday wank or rolling over in bed so our sleep apnea doesn’t suffocate us, I’d say we’ve done really rather well! I’ll talk about it more in due course but honestly, if you’re out there thinking you can’t exercise, get yourself moving! I mean…I haven’t died, yet…

Just a quick recipe tonight to keep you going – but this is delicious! You may know our approach to risottos – just chuck everything in and leave it to cook itself. Might not be 100% authentic but by god, it’ll leave you satisfied. Without further delay…

Oh one thing: if you’re still after a Halo fryer, they are now the absolute lowest they’ve ever been – get it ordered!

This serves four! Oh and it’s actually 1.25 syn per serving, but I can’t be arsed to be that anal. It’s been a long day!

sausage and white wine risotto

sausage and white wine risotto

sausage and white wine risotto

Prep

Cook

Total

Yield 4 big bowls

Sausages, booze, and stodge. This sausage and white wine risotto is THE perfect dinner idea that you've been waiting for! Robust, meaty and just a little bit fruity - just like us. Even though it's full of rich ingredients this is just one syn and a bit each and one of the tastiest things we've ever made!

We've adapted this and made it a bit skinnier from our 'spirit daddies', The Hairy Bikers. Their original recipe is in the brilliant 'Meat Feasts' book - you can get a copy at Amazon! Don't forget to check out their website for more tasty ideas. 

Ingredients

  • 4-6 sausages (see notes)
  • 1 litre chicken stock
  • 1 large onion, sliced
  • 2 garlic cloves, minced
  • 1 tsp thyme
  • 1 tsp rosemary
  • 300g arborio rice
  • 125ml white wine  (5 syns)
  • 60g parmesan, grated (2x HeA)
  • 2 tbsp finely chopped parsley

Instructions

  • cook the sausages however you like them, and then slice and keep to one side
  • meanwhile, heat a large pan over a medium-high heat and spray in some oil
  • add the sliced onions and cook until starting to turn brown - remember to stir them about regularly
  • once the onions have started to lightly caramelise, reduce the heat to medium and add the garlic, herbs and rice and stir well
  • add the wine and give a good stir, and then pour in the stock and stir again, and then put the lid on the pan
  • cook for twenty minutes - no need to stir!
  • gently drag a wooden spoon through the rice - if it falls back in 'waves' it's at the right consistency - cook for a few minutes more if it's not
  • stir in the sausages slices and sprinkle over the parmesan
  • serve and sprinkle over the parsley

Notes

  • you can cook the sausages however you like - we used our Optigrill - but however you like it will do, just make sure they're cooked!
  • you can use any sausages you like - including veggie ones if you want - but just remember to check the syns! We used Muscle Food Low Fat pork sausages which are syn free
  • you can use a sprig of rosemary and thyme instead of the dried stuff if you prefer, just remember to fish them out before serving
  • use any wine you like but remember that different types have different syn values so remember to check. We used normal 12.5% stuff.
  • slice the onions in double-quick time with a mandoline - just watch your fingers if you're a clumsy twat
  • a good, heavy lidded pan works best - this is what we use

Courses Dinner

Cuisine Italian

Looking good right? Want some more risotto ideas? We’ve got loads – why not try one of the following?

Enjoy!

J

full english breakfast risotto: a perfect bit of stodge

Full English breakfast risotto – not a breakfast recipe, no, but rather a delicious risotto with all the lovely bits of a full English breakfast! Yes it’s indulgent, yes it’ll probably give you blue lips, but it’s so, so good: plus as with all our risottos, it pretty much cooks itself – no clarting about with adding ladles of stock! This is a rollover recipe – you can use the leftover sausages and bacon from yesterday’s recipe of super scrambled eggs to make into this beauty! I mean, I don’t recommend you have them both on the same day, but there’s nothing stopping you cooking off all the sausages and bacon and leaving half aside to make this.

Not a fan of congealed blood and fat and oats? Please: call yourself a blubber-merchant? Feel free to leave it out. If you do, it’s syn free. Top tip for this: once you’ve finished serving it up in that effortlessly stylish way of ours, pop the yolk so it runs through the risotto, mash the tomatoes in and crumble over that black pudding. It’s so, so good!

No chitter-chat tonight as we’re off to the gym. I know: who have we become? But after yesterday’s diatribe I need to stop bumping my lips for a bit.

This serves four, by the way – normal portions. If you’re a greedy sod like me, two massive bowls.

full english breakfast risotto

full english breakfast risotto

to make full english breakfast risotto you will need:

  • 400g arborio rice
  • 3 chicken stock cubes (dissolved in 1 litre of boiling water)
  • 4 low fat sausages, cooked and sliced (see top tips below)
  • 1 onion, finely chopped
  • 4 bacon medallions, cooked and chopped
  • 4 eggs
  • 2 slices of Morrison’s black pudding (9 syns)
  • 2 big handfuls of mushrooms
  • 150g cherry tomatoes

top tips to make full english breakfast risotto:

  • we used the sausages and bacon from Musclefood which are both syn free! If you want to check out our special deals just click here! Of course, you can use other sausages – just remember to syn them
  • we used Morrison’s black pudding which is 4½ syns a slice – they vary a lot across brands though so do check yours
  • you can cook the bacon and sausages however you like them – we used our Optigrill but you could use an airfryer, a frying pan, a George Foreman grill or a normal grill – however you want! For best results cook the sausages halfway (they’ll cook fully later)
  • don’t like black pudding or mushrooms? Just leave them out! You can add or remove whatever you like – make it however you like it!
  • an oil sprayer will make this so much easier and won’t strip your pans like Fry Light does – we use this one and it’s excellent!
  • if you want fancy fried egg like us *cough* you can get your mitts on some fancy food rings at Amazon

to make full english breakfast risotto you should:

  • preheat the oven to 190ºc
  • lay the cherry tomatoes out onto a baking tray and spray with a little oil
  • cook in the oven for about 20-25 minutes
  • heat a large pan over a medium-high heat and spray in a little oil
  • add the onions and mushrooms to the pan and fry until the onions start to turn golden
  • add the rice to the pan along with the sausages and bacon and give another stir
  • pour the stock into the pan, cover and simmer on a low heat for 20-25 minutes
  • meanwhile, spray a frying pan with a little oil and fry the black pudding for 3-4 minutes each side, and set aside
  • in the same pan, add a little more oil and fry the eggs to your liking
  • once the risotto is cooked serve into bowls
  • top with the tomatoes, halved black pudding and fried egg

Craving more ooey, gooey risottos? We’ve got loads!

Yum!

J

sausage and ham super scrambled eggs

Sausage and ham super scrambled eggs: because you’re worth it.

Guys, if you want the recipe and aren’t in the mood for a politically-correct, bang-on, leftie snowflake moan, just scroll down until you see the pretty pictures of the dinner. Because boy, am I going to moan.

You may recall a while back I did a post complaining that the ignorant fuckers banging on about Tesco pandering to Muslims because they had the temerity to include an Asian family in their Christmas advert. I know: shock horror! If not, you can find it here. You would have hoped that the passage of time might have quelled the ignorant, or perhaps they might have found something shiny on the floor to distract them, but no – that sound you hear, like someone standing barefoot on wet rice krispies, is the spittle collecting in the corner of their downturned mouths once more. Why? Because Cadbury’s are BANNING THE WORD EASTER FROM THEIR EASTER EGGS TO APPEASE MUSLIMS. 

Except, much like Tesco, they’re not. This one is even easier to discount: whilst you can argue that maybe Tesco weren’t being honest in their right-on PC approach to inclusivity (which is bollocks, plenty of Muslim families take part in Christmas), you can’t argue that Cadbury’s are banning the word Easter when you can walk into any shop, pick up any number of Cadbury’s eggs and see the word Easter emblazoned on the box, or on the chocolate egg, or sat amongst all of the other Easter eggs in the friggin’ Easter egg section of the supermarket. It’s quite literally there in brown and white. It’s like getting in a tizz about the sky not existing or grass not being green – it’s an unequivocal, incontrovertible fact. They say the word is banned, people post photos of their eggs showing otherwise. That would surely be enough to calm their tits, no?

No.

No, despite absolute evidence to the contrary, they still believe in a great conspiracy to ‘devalue the importance of Easter’ and that Cadbury’s are head of the coterie working hard to bring this country to its knees. They ignore the fact that most eggs have Easter on them in order to point out the few that don’t (carefully side-stepping the fact that the Help for Heroes egg doesn’t mention Easter) as justification of their anger. Some learned sort posted pictures of eggs from the 1970s, also Easter-less, as proof that sometimes an egg is just allowed to be an egg, but this too was ignored. At this point anyone pointing out the fallacies in their arguments is usually made out as a JEREMI CORBIN LOVER or typical leftie libtard or some other such nonsense, as though having a rational mind and decent principles is something to be ashamed of.

What vexes me is that most of these people couldn’t give the shiniest of shites about Christianity and indeed, the last time they were on their knees in a church it was probably to either suck off the vicar or wrench the lead from the stained glass windows. They’re about as Christian and as God-bothering as I am a sofa cushion. Do you think these people are good Christian soldiers? No: it’s just another excuse to bash the Muslims and to try and justify their thick, idiotic behaviour. They wheel out the ‘importance of the true Easter message’ as though they’ll be doing anything at Easter other than ransacking the shelves of B&M and watching Jeremy Kyle, who might tip his hat to Easter by adding bunny noises over the punch-ups and tying a bonnet on Steve the bouncer. Pfft. The only thing I want to tie behind Steve the Bouncer’s ears are my thighs. You ask most of them which muscle-bound adonis was well-hung at Easter and they’ll probably name some stripper they saw at the last lock-in at whatever flat-roofed barred-window shithole they had their Shenice’s 5th birthday in, for a beige buffet all round.

The final argument is the finisher though: good people are told that ‘they just don’t see the bigger picture’ or ‘you’re too scared to admit the truth’. It’s as though the truth that they have rattling in their brains like a grain of rice in a tumble drier is the gospel and that they, not you, are the enlightened one because they’re one vein-pop away from crouching down in a barnyard yelling at the hens because they don’t imprint ‘I LOVE JESUS’ on each egg they fire out. If that’s the truth, then slap my arse, call me a salty bitch and make me a liar, because I want nothing of it.

Paul pointed out that I have to stop arguing on facebook, and he’s right. What does it ever get you? No-one, no matter what side of the fence you come down on, is ever going to change their mind on a hot-button issue because Sandra from Stanley weighed in on her Radio Rentals Amstrad to tell us why Brexit is a good idea, why gays shouldn’t be allowed to marry or who really did wear it best between Holly Willoughby and a toilet-roll cover. And yet, everyone feels the need to voice, to speak, to get their opinion across: I’m doing it as we speak, but don’t worry, I’m safely strapped in on my high horse. It’s very comfortable. But it’s all so…pointless. I’ve decided then to give facebook a rest, at least outside of my social circle.

I’ve unliked all the local news stories, where an article about a new bus-stop can turn into a smear against the mayor, an argument about Poles coming over here stealing our daffodils and why Theresa May is good/bad/incapable of smiling without looking like she’s pissing blood-soaked nails. I’ve stopped following anything faintly contentious or interesting. American articles are an absolute cesspit of who can call Trump the worst thing, which is pointless because everyone knows the correct answer to that is that he’s like a pube-covered Wotsit that a deranged person carved a face onto. TV shows fanpages are a no-go because they’re full of people who have never left their mother’s busom and who take everything so seriously. Comment sections on newspaper sites are like the table in the pub you avoid at all costs. And now, even the sanctuary that was a chocolate facebook page has been sullied by the thick and the ignorant.

What’s the cure? If I was ever Prime Minister, I’d have all of these people who graduated from the School of Hard Knocks and who have a degree from the University of Life rounded up, popped into a lorry and driven into the sea. Don’t worry, they’d be long dead before they entered the water, drowned in a yellowish froth of their collective bile, disgust and self-righteousness, arguing and spitting to the very end. You know how I’d celebrate? With a large, generous slice of politically correct cocoa-ovoid.

Sigh.

Anyway, let’s do the recipe. It’s super scrambled eggs but done all fancy and meaty! Now, if you buy a pack of bacon and sausages, keep half of them for the recipe that’s coming tomorrow – we’re calling this a rollover recipe! Let’s do this.

super scrambled eggs

super scrambled eggs

to make super scrambled eggs you will need:

  • 8 eggs
  • 6 bacon medallions OR 100g of cooked ham, cooked and chopped
  • 4 low fat sausages (see top tips below), cooked and sliced
  • 2 large tomatoes, diced
  • 100ml skimmed milk (1½ syns)
  • 30g cheddar, grated (3 syns)

top tips for super scrambled eggs:

  • the milk and cheese is optional but totally worth it
  • we used the sausages from our incredible Musclefood deals which are free! If you use a different type be sure to syn them
  • Fry Light will ruin your pans – get one of these misters instead!
  • you can cook the sausages and bacon however you like, we used our Tefal Optigrill but you can cook yours in a frying pan, under the grill or in a George Foreman – it’s up to you!

how to make super scrambled eggs:

  • whisk the eggs together with the milk
  • spray a saucepan with a little oil and add the sausages, bacon (or ham) and tomatoes
  • cook for a few minutes, stirring frequently
  • add the eggs to the pan and stir constantly until they’re scrambled to your liking
  • serve and sprinkle over the grated cheese
  • eat served on whatever you like

Looking for more breakfast ideas? You greedy bugger!

J

 

breakfast sausage and egg hash browns

Nice simple recipe for breakfast hash browns coming up – and coming up quickly, mind you – but first, I want to share three little irritations. I need to get them off my chest otherwise they’ll bubble and boil and I’ll end up taking it out on the cat, perhaps by forgetting to turn on their chilled water or giving them Whiskas instead of their fancy organic shite. That’s a waste of money, anyway: yes, it might be organic, but I’ve seen my cat vomit up a bird and have another bash at eating it immediately after. They’re not picky.

Firstly, I’ve been gravely wounded. I’ve been cut up. Shanked. Given a ‘Welcome to Byker’. I jest, though I passed through Byker once in the car. They didn’t film Byker Grove there, by the way – it’s just one devastating lie after another. No see, I’ve started giving a toss what my hair looks like. Normally I like to let it grow cheerily for seven or eight weeks, spreading out however it wished like Molton Brown-scented mould. But now my face is slightly less egg-like I’ve taken to getting it cut with a straight-edge razor at a Turkish barbers that I’ve discovered in Newcastle. I only called in to try and get taken around the back to have my comb dipped, but alas, no dice. Anyway they’re usually very good and, for the most part, don’t chat, which I like. I can’t stand making small-talk especially when I’m gazing at my own reflection in the mirror – it feels like the most schizophrenic interview ever. The thing with having your head shaved with a proper razor is that you can’t move – you can’t nod or jolt or disco dance because otherwise you’ll end up looking like Carrie White.

I’m good at sitting still – being fat does tend to gift that skill to a person – but even I was on edge. We were almost done when he must have jolted and, in the process of doing so, gave me a lovely long cut right on the back of my shiny bald bonce. Worst part is, I didn’t even feel it happen – the blade is that sharp, I only noticed when he apologised and stuck a square of kitchen roll on the back of my head. Apology accepted, he then set about doing my beard, and you have to understand that there’s no tension quite like what you feel when you’ve got a man capable of random spasms holding a razor-blade right in front of your throat. Brrr! He did a fabulous job though, and gave me a free haircut. Someone said the scar would add character and make me look like a hard man: aye right fella – I’m more Ann Mitchell than Grant Mitchell.

I couldn’t find the right place to drop this in, so please, accept this bon mot floating out of place: “It’s certainly the closest a wet gash has ever been to my face“.

Second, let’s talk needless offence. This always happens when we have a swell of new people in our facebook group – the professionally offended itching for their chance to climb on their high horses and look down at those chuckling at good humour. Let me give you an example: someone shared a post of a photography business who had posted a load of ‘new parent’ pictures, only instead of a baby they used a cat. Said photos included them cuddling their swaddled cat, the ‘father’ crying with emotion and the mother whipping her breast out as if to feed. The cat wasn’t latched on. It wasn’t pushed out of her fadge. It was happy enough in a blanket being cooed over. But Christ, you’d think we’d uploaded footage of a cat being tied to the space shuttle for shits and giggles. Cries of ‘omg this is sik’ and ‘shud be band ADMIN’ rang out like bells at Christmas. There was a common theme amongst the complainants was that it only took 30 seconds to review each Facebook profile and find a ‘97% OF PEOPLE WON’T SHARE THIS PICTURE OF A BACON SANDWICH DO IT BEFORE FACEBOOK BAN IT’ meme. I wish we could take the Internet away from these folks. They’re the same cavalcade of clits that complain about men kissing in soup adverts or the fact Tesco use Muslims in their Christmas adverts. Arseholes, in short.

Lastly, elderly drivers. No look I’m sorry, I know it’s a blanket, sweeping statement, but I’ve had years of hearing how bad boy racers are at driving their little acne-carriages, let’s have a pop at the elderly. Before I do: I know there’s loads of good old drivers out there, but they’re seemingly all down South – they’re certainly not in bloody Newcastle. You know what I mean: going 40mph whether on the motorway, outside a school or ploughing into pedestrians. Incapable of seeing over the steering wheel. Rictus frown on their face. My latest encounter was outside of Lidl only today, and actually, I was on foot and yet they still managed to aggravate me. I was just stepping onto a zebra crossing to cross the car-park when a Nissan Family-Circle-Tin ran over the front of my left shoe, having elected not to bother stopping. Normally I’d just give him some Newcastle sign-language but because he’d actually kept going, I banged on his roof. Well, he almost shit himself (and there’s a certain inevitability about that). He wound down his window and muttered that he hadn’t seen me. How can you not see me? I’m the size of a vending machine and I know for a fact that my outlet-bargain Jacamo jacket doesn’t have a double-function as a fucking invisibility cloak. I waited for an apology that wasn’t coming, gave him a shitty look and hobbled off. Tell you what: I reckon a good 80% of the folks who cut me up, slam their brakes on or drive like bellends are octogenerian or plus. But of course, it’s not their fault. No-no. Argh.

Actually, fuck it, let’s add a fourth irritation: the ad-bumpers on The Chase, featuring the most excruciating raillery even committed to film. I love The Chase but I have to turn it over before it cuts to the drama students guffawing into their hands. It’s either that or I put my foot through the telly. Who approves this nonsense? The same degenerate who allowed the TUI adverts to go ahead. You know the one: some canyon-toothed dolly-dippit singing an appalling cover of Ain’t Nobody in that awful drab register so common these days whilst men who ought to be ashamed of their life tap-dance in the background. I’d sooner book a flight on a crashing plane than TUI. Dot the Ts and cross the Is? They don’t even do that! Bastards!

Eee I feel better for that – it’s like lancing a boil. And, on that attractive note, let’s do these sausage and egg hash browns, shall we? This made six, but it really depends on the size of your Yorkshire pudding tin.

hash browns

hash browns

to make breakfast sausage and egg hash browns, you’ll need:

  • about 800g of potatoes
  • one red onion
  • 80g of lighter extra mature cheddar
  • six eggs
  • a few sausages of your choice – we don’t go for anything fancy, just the 0.5 syn sausages from our Musclefood offers – grilled – and then cut into chunks. If you want to syn two pieces of 0.5 syn sausage, you crack on. I’m not stressing about quarter of a syn.
  • lots of black pepper and salt
  • a good clean teatowel
  • a Yorkshire pudding tin
  • squirty oil spray

to make breakfast sausage and egg hash browns, you should:

  • preheat the oven to 190 degrees
  • grate your potatoes (skin on) and onion – use a box grater or, if you’ve got a fancy Kenwood like us, the grater blade – it’ll take no time at all
  • using the clean tea-towel to wrap the grated potato and onion in, squeeze as much liquid as you can out of it – then do it again – you need it as dry as possible
  • add lots of salt and pepper and mix the cheese in too
  • spray your pudding tin with some spray oil (0.5 syns for 5 sprays, you only need ten at most, and this makes six hash browns, so it’s up to you if you syn them
  • press equal amounts of mixture into the tin – really press the bottom down mind and then up the side
  • add diced sausage and crack an egg on the top
  • pop in the oven for a good twenty five minutes or so
  • done!

Make life easy for yourself: don’t make the ‘walls’ of the hash-browns too thick, or they’ll not crisp up. Also, rather than squeezing with a tea-towel, use a potato ricer. Yep – the thing we always recommend for perfect mash can also be put to use here by squeezing every last drop from your potatoes in no time at all! These freeze really well, too! I’ve included the cooking picture so you can see how I made them.

Want more breakfast ideas? Please take a look:

J