Slimming World chimichurri! Now admittedly chimichurri sounds like something a posh woman would call her fadge when telling the doctor it’s sealed over, but bear with us – it’s actually a gorgeous herby sauce where, if you use good fresh herbs, it’ll be an absolute delight. You’ll wonder why you haven’t had it before but we all know the answer to that is simple: like you’d ever turn down a cream sauce for your steak. Even so, give this a go.
There’s no time to lose today because we’ve had an actual House Calamity. You will have doubtless noticed that it’s been hotter than the devil’s dick outside until Friday, when the skies broke just in time to make sure that 1,000,000 people who still live at home with their mothers were denied the chance to look at the moon. It tipped it down, and naturally, our house decided to throw a spanner in our plans to save up for Canada and instead, sprung yet another leak. We’ve now got more brown damp patches on our ceiling than we ever manage on our mattress, but that’s what being married for eleven years will do for you.
This means yet more visits from roofers, more awkward small-talk and yet more waiting around for them to appear from ‘just around the corner, mate’, where presumably that corner is somewhere south of Doncaster. I’ve long since given up on people saying they’ll turn up at any given point – I swear we’ve still got someone due round to clean my little C2 (not a euphemism) and that was turned into a cube back in 2012.
So, you can have a recipe, and we’ll get on with fussing about our ceiling. Sigh. Chimichurri sauce for you!
Sounds fancy, eh? Chimichurri comes all the way from them Argies and is a tasty sauce for fresh meat! It's as easy as you after a night at the bingo and tastes phenomenal! It's a cool colour too, so the kids will love it.
The beauty with this is that you can have it with whatever you want! We had ours with chips because we're common and it's our default position. We had some left over the next day and slipped it into sandwiches and it was just as good! Sex up your meaty flaps tonight.
Ingredients
4 good steaks
2 big bunches of basil
2 big bunches of parsley
2 big bunches of mint
2 big bunches of chives
4 green chillis
2 tsp capers
2 limes
1 tbsp olive oil (6 syns)
salt
pepper
Instructions
firstly, take the steak out of the fridge and bring it up to room temperature
next, finely chop all of the herbs, chillis and capers - if you can't be arsed, do what we did and chuck it all in a food processor
zest and juice the limes and add the olive oil, and mix well
sprinkle a little salt and pepper over the steaks and cook to your liking
as the meat is cooking, dollop the chimichurri sauce onto a chopping board and gently spread out into a large square big enough for the steaks to sit on
when the steak is cooked, place on top of the chimichurri and leave to rest for a few minutes
slice the steak and use a knife to spread the chimichurri sauce all over it - like it's getting a facial
serve
Notes
remember: this recipe is for four - if you're only making it for two people just halve everything
we used our Tefal Optigrill to cook the steak perfectly - if you've got one, just press the 'steak' button and then wait until the light shows your desired level of 'doneness'!
don't be tempted to skimp on the oil in this one - it's worth it, and it's only a few syns!
Cuisineargentinian
Lovely! Perhaps you want some more steak ideas? Sure thing, cheesenips!
OK so maybe not the easiest dinner in the world but red pesto pasta sure as hell beats ‘shit with sugar sandwiches’ that my mother, bless her blackened heart, used to threaten us with when we whinged on. Pfft, at least we would have got some fibre into our diet!
I’m pleased as punch writing this – I totally pulled at Pride on Saturday. Now you must know that Paul and I are terribly loyal to one another but we’re realists, there’s no harm in looking at the sweet-shop as long as you’re not unwrapping and swallowing. And, if you are, you enjoy your pic-n-mix together, see? But I asked some hurly-burly bear where he got his t-shirt (check me out, being social) and he responded with ‘oooooh, off yer bedroom floor love’.
I think, technically, that means we’re now betrothed and we’ll need to send Paul away with all of his clothing packed into a Lidl bag, walking out into the night back to Peterborough. Ah I jest. Listen, you can’t have James without Paul – it’s like French without Saunders, or Fred without Rose. It just doesn’t work.
Pride was great fun though, as it always is, though an entirely different beast to Northumberland Pride – lots more stalls, huge queues and lots more fetishwear. I dropped my wallet on the floor in front of the burger stand and had to be very cautious picking it up in case some leather-daddy took it upon himself to fist me like Winnie the Pooh reaching in for honey.
I love Pride events – so many happy people out to celebrate love. But by Christ, it makes you feel old. remember being teenage and full of literal and metaphorical spunk, having a whale of a time and being myself without stressing about labels and identity and gender. Happy times. Now I spend a good half of the time at Pride wondering where I can get a nice sit down because my feet hurt. I actually found myself wincing when we went into the music tent, although in our defence they were playing S Club 3. You’ve heard of them, yes? S Club 7 with all the talent removed. So, S Club 7.
No that’s mean, Don’t Stop Moving is a belting tune. Much better when The Beautiful South covered it in a blues style, though:
The day passed in a blur of trying not to buy stuff because we’re cheap, trying not to eat stuff because we’re on a diet and dealing with the super-awkward situation of being recognised by lovely folks who said hello and then had to immediately witness us stumbling over our words and blushing furiously. Admittedly, it’s not like anyone is camping out on our lawn, but it does happen more often than you think and when it does, it throws me off. Don’t let it stop you, though, if you ever see us out and about do come over and say hello: if you’re a fan of awkward conversation and slightly too long stares, you’ll get your fill with us!
Again, maybe it speaks to my age or my obesity, but all I could think of was how hot he must be under there. Not his naked lithe body, no, that doesn’t do anything for me, but I was sweating like a glassblower’s arse and all I had on, as you can see, was a cheap H&M sailor shirt and half a shaved gorilla. I think I have more hair draped over my right nipple than Paul does on his entire body. He must have been absolutely dripping under all that PVC, and to make things worse, I saw him locked in a car in ASDA car-park later. Dogs die in hot cars, you know.
What else to report? Very little, I’m afraid: our evenings have been given over to stuffing envelopes and licking stamps and trying to think of 800 creative ways to draw knobs on envelopes when we’re sending out our twochubbycubs badges. The good news is that our badges are flying out so get your orders in and keep us in gin.
I messed up a little bit by addressing a badge to a lady but calling her DILF-MASTER GENERAL, though. See, what was I saying about gender insensitivities? Right, shall we get to the red pesto pasta? It’s almost a cheek to call it a recipe, because honestly it’s just mixing a few things together, but sometimes you want something plain filling your hole, but still tasty. This red pesto pasta is exactly that! So enjoy.
This recipe is ridiculously easy but doesn't 'alf pack a punch on the taste front. This should take you no more than 10 minutes and only uses one pan! What's not to love?!
Ingredients
500g linguine
6 tbsp red chilli pesto (9 syns)
90g ricotta (1x HeA)
handful of fresh basil leaves
30g parmesan (1x HeA)
Instructions
cook the pasta according to the instructions but stop just short of fully done - you want it to have a bit of bite to it
reserve half a mug of the pasta water
drain the pasta and return to the pan
lob in the pesto, ricotta, basil and parmesan and stir - dribble in a bit of the pasta water to loosen it if needed
serve!
Notes
we used linguine (it's like a flat spaghetti) but honestly, any pasta will do
if you can't find red chilli pesto just use normal red pesto and add half a teaspoon of chilli flakes
you could use quark or Philadelphia instead of the ricotta if you like - but where's the fun in that?
Well, this is naughty: our no regrets proper macaroni cheese. It’s macaroni cheese done right, and comes in at 24 syns a serving. This is in no way diet food: but sometimes you need a Hot Flavour Injection before you get back on the horse to Bland Town. This dish is the culinary equivalent of telling your wife you’re discussing spreadsheets at a conference when you’re actually paying someone to do all those things to you that you read in Schmutziges Erotik-Pferd back in the fifties. Filth!
We shan’t mess about with gossip and flim-flam – I don’t doubt you’re chomping at the clout to get to our proper macaroni cheese, so let’s get straight to it. No foreplay.
Sometimes you need something dirty. In situations like that, no amount of pretending Quark is anything other than something scraped from under a particularly pungent bellend will do. No, sometimes you need something proper to hit the spot rather than pretend, and this macaroni cheese - loaded with butter, cheese, chorizo and more cheese, will do just that.
This is 24 syns per serving. You'll need to put a towel down, just saying.
Ingredients
500g penne
300g cherry tomatoes
1 chorizo ring, finely chopped (31 syns)
2 onions, sliced
50g panko (9 syns)
6 tbsp butter (33 syns)
70g flour (12½ syns)
1 litre whole milk (30 syns)
1 tsp mustard powder
2 tbsp sriracha (2 syns)
1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
125g extra-mature cheddar, grated (25 syns)
125g red leicester, grated (25 syns)
125g mozarella, grated (17½ syns)
50g parmesan, grated (12 syns)
Instructions
preheat the oven to 180°c
bring a large pan of salted water to the boil and cook the pasta according to the instructions, then drain
place the cherry tomatoes onto a baking tray and drizzle with a little oil, and sprinkle over some salt, and bake for twenty minutes
heat a large pan over a medium-high heat
add a few teaspoons of oil and fry the chorizo and onion until crisp
use a slotted spoon to scoop out the chorizo and onion, and set aside
reduce the heat to medium and add the butter to the same pan (with the tasty chorizo oil) and stir continuously until melted
add the flour to the pan and stir for a minute
whisk in the milk and bring to the boil, whisking constantly
add the mustard, sriracha and Worcestershire sauce to the pan and keep whisking
add in the cheese, reserving a quarter of each for the topping, plus the chorizo and onions, and keep stirring
tip the drained pasta into the cheese sauce and mix well
tip into a large dish and top with the cherry tomatoes
sprinkle over the panko, parmesan and the rest of the cheese and bake for 35 minutes
If you find that your companion has gone blue at the lips, follow these steps:
place the heel of your hand on the centre of the person's chest, then place the other hand on top and press down by 5-6cm (2-2.5 inches) at a steady rate of 100 to 120 compressions per minute.
after every 30 chest compressions, give two rescue breaths.
tilt the casualty's head gently and lift the chin up with two fingers. Pinch the person’s nose. Seal your mouth over their mouth and blow steadily and firmly into their mouth for about one second. Check that their chest rises. Give two rescue breaths.
continue with cycles of 30 chest compressions and two rescue breaths until they begin to recover or emergency help arrives
Courseswhore
CuisineItalian
Now of course one must remember that this is a diet blog so, if the above has left you leaking like a broken fridge but unable to see said leak because you’ve got a continental shelf rather than a gunt, panic not. We’ve got you, fam – here’s some diet takes on macaroni cheese to keep you going:
Here for the Tex Mex Stack? Of course you are, but first…
Honestly, we’re an embarrassment as a nation sometimes. Build-a-Bear were running a promotion today where you could buy a teddy-bear for the price of the age of your child – so if your charming little sperm-blossom was seven, seven quid was all you’d need to pay for a cuddly toy. Not a bad deal: certainly I’ve paid more than that to stuff a bear in my time. However – somewhat inevitably – the promotion has led to ‘angry and violent scenes’ as parents who should know better jostle and fight in eight-hour queues to get last year’s stock at a discount. Why? It’s a teddy bear they’re giving out, not an hour riding Tom Hardy’s face like one of those novelty cars you get outside of a supermarket.
It makes me cringe, and the cherry on the cake? A mother saying she had taken her kid out of school “because it’s not important”! Bloody hell. What’s more important than a solid education? Why of course, it’s allowing your child to get kneed in the face whilst you pull the extensions out of whichever u-ok-hunner has taken up camp in front of you. I watch scenes like this with the same barely-concealed contempt that I save for people who throw litter from their cars, or those who kick cats, or Theresa May, a woman so devoid of humanity and warmth that you can easily imagine her asking her driver to back the car up after hitting a deer just so she could watch the light leave its eyes.
However, there’s a flipside to national excitement. I have enjoyed, for the most part, the patriotism and cheerfulness that swept across the nation like a Sports Direct-branded blanket over the last couple of weeks when we (mostly) believed that ‘football was coming home’. You must understand that I can’t bear football – nothing about watching 22 men with pipe-cleaner haircuts kicking a bladder around a field excites me – but even I’ve been swept up in daring to dream. Paul had to stop me hanging a flag from our window, telling me that we already looked like fully-paid-up National Front members, what with our skinhead haircuts and Dr Martens, and perhaps we didn’t need to reinforce that look further. I know it’s not racist to display our flag, despite the myriad of Facebook posts informing me so from people you know get given Lynx sets for Christmas, but even so, it does have a certain image problem.
But it’s just been nice having people out celebrating, smiling, enjoying themselves without much bother instead of the usual sights that accompany football fans abroad – men with tits bouncing on their knees throwing plastic chairs at anyone who elongates their vowels, women pissing in the street, people shouting ENG-UR-LAND and getting spittle everywhere. Admittedly it hasn’t all been rosy – you’ll have seen those shameful pictures of the idiots jumping up and down on that ambulance and taking it off the road. I’m not one for eye-for-an-eye, but I can’t help but hope someone jumps up and down on their larynx as retribution. Really, what are we missing?
But morons like that represent the tiniest part of what makes our country great. Seeing everyone celebrating when we scored, and then commiserating when we lost, was thrilling. Let’s be proud of where we got to, instead of immediately running onto Facebook to be the cleverest dick who can wail the loudest about REAL HEROES and fuck-all’s coming home. It’s beneath us.
Tell you what isn’t beneath you, though: wearing one of our fabulous new badges. In a shameful bit of self-promotion fuelled with the need to pay for our trip to Canada, we’ve commissioned a charming range of badges that sum up being a twochubbycubs can. Naturally, I’ve had to restock the supplies about eight times over because the ones with c*nt on went almost immediately.
I know, they will be wearing them in all the fashion shows and, would you believe, we’ve already had some saucy bugger sending us a picture of the Proud C*nt badge hanging off her clitoris ring. At least I think that’s what it was supposed to be – either that or she’d dropped the badge into a runover Spam baguette. Want one? By all means – they’re mostly back in stock – click here to be whisked straight to them in a new window.
Full disclosure: we profit from these. Because durrr. Something needs to pay for the extensive anal trauma I suffered from someone trying to stuff me in Build a Bear. Mind we’ve sold almost 600 badges so far from a few posts in our group so…
On that note, shall we get to the recipe? McDonalds Tex Mex Stack – it’s high in syns, but you could leave a slice of cheese out to drop the syns further – or take the view that it’s better to spend the syns on something amazing rather than ordering takeaway. Again. Tsk. To the Tex Mex Stack then…
Our final product in our Great Burgers from McDonalds range is this fakeaway takeaway - the Tex Mex Burger. It's high in syns because it has two slices of Mexicana cheese - remove that and replace with the normal cheese allowance and you'll be cooking on gas!
Ingredients
1 wholemeal bun (1x HeB)
200g 5% beef mince
two slices of Mexicana cheese (9 syns)
half a handful of Cool Original Dorito's (2 syns)
1 slice of tomato
handful of lettuce leaves
1 tbsp barbecue sauce (1 syn)
Instructions
make the burgers (see notes)
cook the burgers (see notes)
meanwhile, slice the bun
add a burger and then a slice of cheese, then another burger and another slice of cheese
place in the Doritos, followed by the tomato and lettuce leaves
spoon the barbecue sauce over the top half of the bun and drop on top
eat!
Notes
a burger press will make easy work of the burgers but if you haven't got one just roll the mince into a ball and flatten into a burger shape
you can cook the burgers however you please - we used our Tefal Optigrill on the 'burger' setting but you could use a frying pan over a high heat (spray in a little oil first), under a high grill, on a George Foreman or even on a barbecue. It's up to you!
you'll find Mexicana cheese at nearly all supermarkets - if you can't any spicy cheese will do
you can reduce the syns by using your Healthy Extra A choice for the cheese and adding some chilli flakes to the barbecue sauce
there's no need for egg or any binders in this - the mince will hold just fine as long as you spend a few minutes giving it a good squeeze and a mix first
Lovely, right? That’s the Tex Mex Stack! Fancy one of the other burgers? Click to be taken straight there!
McDonald’s Tennessee Stack fakeaway follows below. Our quartet of burgers is nearly reaching a climax and once we’ve got them out of the way, we can crack on with dodging salads and eating entirely too much pasta. Tis the Slimming World way.
But first, a HEALTH WARNING. I don’t know if you’ve had a chance to read the eight billion facebook posts about it, but there’s a recall on frozen vegetables because there’s a small chance of listeria being present on the frozen peas. DRAMATIC. I mean, cook the vegetables and you’ll be just fine, but no no, Sandra has been on the Mumsnet Forums and is using her Masters in Internet Hyperbole from the University of Life to tell people THEY’RE GOING TO DIE.
It does rather presume you’re sat at home sucking on a frozen carrot like it’s an especially budget ice-pop but still. Oh no. Just as I was typing that sentence I realised that this could be the next Slimming World fad – save yer syns by freezing a shard of beetroot and it’ll be just like a blackcurrant Calippo. Hey, in a world where freezing a Muller Yoghurt is the same as eating Häagen-Dazs anything is possible.
Anyway – it’s too hot to sit typing out recipes, so let’s get this Tennessee Stack out, then go out and enjoy the sun. I hear there’s an important football match on? You can imagine how interested I am in that. I watched the England v Columbia match under significant duress (the gym I use had all the TVs tuned to that station) and fuck me, what a bore. The last time I saw that many men with £250 haircuts and pursed lips fall over and scream theatrically was when I accidentally ordered a pint of beer in our local twink tavern.
Oh I get it, I know, Eng-er-land and all that. It would be fun if they won the World Cup, and oh-aye-no-nah didn’t Pickford’s save come from nowhere etc etc nah, fuck it, I can’t do it. I feel like my anxiety situation of being stuck in a taxi with a driver who talks of nothing but tits and football has expanded out to the entire nation. What do I say when people ask if I follow football? “No, I prefer rugby, they have better arses and at least when they roll around on the floor, there’s likely to be a degree of accidental penetration?” – I find that doesn’t go down so well.
So yeah: come on England. Give us all a reason to wave our Sports Direct-emblazoned flags in the air for a few more days, eh?
Third on the quarter of McDonalds burgers is this Tennessee Stack, which is destined to stay here forever unloved because frankly, if you can't spell twochubbycubs without being directed to a blisteringly-detailed gay porn site, you're definitely not going to master Tennessee.
mix together the paprika and barbecue sauce and spread over the top half of the bun
top the bottom half with a slice of cheese, two burgers and the bacon
add a few slices of gherkins, onions, mayonnaise, lettuce leaves and the other slice of cheese
top with the bun
eat!
Notes
a burger press will make easy work of the burgers but if you haven't got one just roll the mince into a ball and flatten into a burger shape
you can cook the burgers however you please - we used our Tefal Optigrill on the 'burger' setting but you could use a frying pan over a high heat (spray in a little oil first), under a high grill, on a George Foreman or even on a barbecue. It's up to you!
there's no need for egg or any binders in this - the mince will hold just fine as long as you spend a few minutes giving it a good squeeze and a mix first
Coursesburgers
Cuisinefakeaway
Delicious! You know, since doing these burgers we’ve realised they’re nearly all the same – damn you McDonalds – but if this Tennessee Stack stops you enduring a trip to McDonalds, then everyone is a winner, no?
Next on the old trip around McDonalds is this lovely Chicago Stack! I’m not going to lie, all of their Great Taste burgers are variations on meat being packed into buns and covered in a variety of sauces, but then, so am I, and I’m perfect in every way.
Well, aside from my left nostril. No, that little bugger has betrayed me and decided that I don’t need any sleep at all and rather I would prefer to wake up at 4am with it streaming snot and throbbing. I woke up the other night with a pillow so sticky and viscous that I thought I’d been rohypnoled during one of Paul’s ‘Let’s Meet The Neighbours’ events, where neighbours means any VWE BBC curvy gentlemen within a 40 – no, let’s hedge the bets – 50 mile radius. It was like being a teenage boy all over again, although I no longer have a stack of bedaubed Razzles under my mattress that all mysteriously fall open to the ‘Reader’s Husbands’ page. Ah, memories. When you were horny but only had an expanse of fields and a 56k modem to salve your thickness, you made do.
Actually, Christ, that reminds me. I once found a videotape thrown into a hedge when out playing, and because I was an inquisitive child whose parents had a somewhat casual approach to sensibilities, rushed straight home to put it in the VHS player. Well, it certainly wasn’t old episodes of Minder. The lady getting wheelbarrowed around the shagpile had more hair on her muff than I’ve ever had on my face – and I’m talking cumulative beard growth over at least 16 years. I was so horrified and aghast that I rushed out and left it in the video player, which in turn led to a very difficult, awkward conversation later on about the birds, bees and growlers that look like Bungle and George from Rainbow had a lovechild which fell in a fire.
Honestly, it’s no wonder I dance at the other end of the disco.
How the hell did we get here? Ah yes! My nostril! I normally suffer a bit with hay-fever but I can cope if I take an antihistamine, but this year I get woken up suffocating on my own pollen-snot mix. Does anyone have any ideas? I’ve tried all different variations of medication. We have air-conditioning. I’ve tried local honey. I’m not sticking my hand in any nettles. I’m not a simpleton, so please don’t recommend anything that comes from a business where you start every sentence with ‘Now I know it looks like a pyramid scheme but honestly…’ because being told to fuck off will likely offend.
This is a genuine cry for help though – I’ve had about ten hours total sleep in the last four days because once I’m awake, that’s it, I can’t go back to sleep. I lie in bed furious with Paul for being able to sleep and then being sure to passively-aggressively sneeze as loud as possible until he sends me out in a huff.
We have fun! Anyway, I won’t keep you any longer. Before the Chicago Stack recipe, we have a competition running on Instagram though!
Come win yourself a bottle and a flask. To be clear, we were given these to try in response to my mewling about the heat being unbearable and, had they been rubbish like other flasks, I would have wasted no time in telling you. But actually – they kept my drink cold – in this weather – all day AND the food flask kept my food hot. I don’t know the science, but I do know the quality! So I can recommend them without hesitation and you can believe me without regret: take a nose!
Next on our sweep through classic burgers from McDonalds is the Chicago Stack!
Look, this might not be classy food, but we're doing God's work here and saving you from yourself. This way you get to enjoy McDonalds and stay within your syns, which is perfect as it then means you have a few leftover for that XXL Dominos you'll be chasing this down with. Am I right?
Ingredients
1 wholemeal bun (1x HeB)
200g 5% beef mince
2 rashers of bacon, fat removed
2 slices of reduced-fat cheddar (approx. 40g) (1x HeA)
few gherkin slices
1 tbsp barbecue sauce (1 syn)
1 tbsp extra light mayonnaise (1 syn)
Instructions
make the burgers (see notes)
cook the burgers (see notes)
meanwhile, slice the bun
spread the barbecue sauce over the bottom bun and the mayonnaise on the top
add a burger to the bottom bun, then a slice of cheese, then another burger and the other slice of cheese
top with bacon and gherkins
add the top bun
eat!
Notes
a burger press will make easy work of the burgers but if you haven't got one just roll the mince into a ball and flatten into a burger shape
you can cook the burgers however you please - we used our Tefal Optigrill on the 'burger' setting but you could use a frying pan over a high heat (spray in a little oil first), under a high grill, on a George Foreman or even on a barbecue. It's up to you!
there's no need for egg or any binders in this - the mince will hold just fine as long as you spend a few minutes giving it a good squeeze and a mix first
and we used a sesame white bun for the picture because we're whorish and don't care about syns any more
Coursesfakeaway
Cuisineburgers
You know, rather than endless links, let’s bring the buttons back for a bit! Click and be whisked to a list of recipes for each category. Well I say whisk, but not with those cankles, eh? Enjoy your Chicago Stack!
The McDonalds New York Stack – almost single-handedly responsible for reversing a fair few weeks of us being good, I can tell you. However, whack it through the syns calculator and it’s enough to give Mags a fit of the vapours, so we’ve come up with a low-syn take on it which actually tastes almost exactly the same. To fully replicate the taste experience, make sure you put it in a box with nicotine-scented fingers, leave it to sweat for about thirty minutes and then mash it with your fist so it’s all smeared and gross.
Sorry for the lack of recipes at the moment, but it’s too hot – it’s as simple as that. As soon as either one of my nipples thaws out I’m immediately too hot and start working at 40% capacity, like an overheated engine. But rather than leaving you famished, let’s barrel out some of the recipes we’ve got stuck in draft – beginning with this New York Stack!
Of the four burgers that appeared in the Great Tastes of America menu that McDonalds did, this was our easy favourite - not least because a bagel always cheers the soul, doesn't it? The proper version comes in after over 30 syns, so this is a big old saving!
Ingredients
1x New York Bakery Co. Bagel Thins, Seeded (1x HeA)
200g 5% beef mince
20g reduced-fat cheddar (½x HeA)
2 slices of bacon, fat removed
few slices of gherkins
handful of lettuce leaves
1 tbsp extra-light mayonnaise (1 syn)
1 tbsp tomato sauce (1 syn)
Instructions
make the burgers (see notes)
cook the burgers (see notes) and bacon
meanwhile, slice the bun
spread the tomato sauce on the top half of the bagel half
top the bottom half of the bagel with a slice of cheese, two burgers, bacon, gherkins, mayonnaise, lettuce leaves and other slice of cheese
top with the other bagel half
eat!
Notes
a burger press will make easy work of the burgers but if you haven't got one just roll the mince into a ball and flatten into a burger shape
you can cook the burgers however you please - we used our Tefal Optigrill on the 'burger' setting but you could use a frying pan over a high heat (spray in a little oil first), under a high grill, on a George Foreman or even on a barbecue. It's up to you!
there's no need for egg or any binders in this - the mince will hold just fine as long as you spend a few minutes giving it a good squeeze and a mix first
Coursesburger
CuisineMcDonalds
Yum! Mind our McDonalds-a-likes don’t begin and end with the New York Stack, you know. We’ve also done some cracking takes on other stuff, see?
Not going to lie, I’m in two minds to post this recipe for pease pudding. Keen readers may remember me mentioning a few posts back that people are scraping this stuff into pie dishes and pretending it’s a pastry. I can get behind that – sort of – it’s not that much different to a potato crust pie, I suppose. But, to top the lemon meringue pie monstrosity that I saw someone posting the other day, someone’s actually gone and made jam tarts. That’s a jam tart made from pease-pudding and a few squished strawberries. Syn-free, though, so who’s laughing now? Not the people watching you choke down these vile creations, I can tell you – they’re looking at you with thinly-veiled hatred, Sheila – not least because you’ve got pease pudding flakes in your moustache.
But hey, who am I to stand in the way of dignity – so a recipe for pease pudding it is. This isn’t syn-free because in a desperate attempt to make it interesting I’ve added a Newcastle Brown Ale syrup that I made from boiling the bejesus from a bottle of dog – that’s what we call Newcastle Brown Ale up here in tan-teeth-land: so-called because a husband would tell his wife he was walking the dog when instead he was creeping away for a quick drink. The rotter! You can, of course, leave that out. What you do with this pease pudding is entirely up to you – decent folk spread it on sandwiches with ham, sensible folk have it on the side of a good lunch, but if you choose to smear it up a pie tin and make a corned beef pie with it, then more power to your elbow.
Reposting this for the summer. Ask yourself a quick question – can you remember the hair colour of the last person who served you in a shop? Can you remember what style shirt the guy who let you out at the lights was wearing? In fact, any human interaction outside of your friends and family in the last three days – can you describe anyone in more than a fleeting detail? Of course you can’t – and that’s why you shouldn’t be covering up your wobbly bits or unsightly ham-arms. Because no-one cares, no-one remembers and only you are worried about them. When I posted this on Facebook yesterday there was a sea of positivity – good – but quite a few comments of people sat inside too scared to go out and enjoy themselves because they were scared of being judged. Please, for the love of Mags Miles-B and her 40 Rothmans larynx, stop. Don’t waste a second worrying about people who’d never give you a second thought (and I mean that kindly). Life’s too short.
So two things: you don't need an Instant Pot for this recipe - it just makes things so much easier. Second, you don't need to add the ale - it adds syns, but it makes a lovely base-note for the pudding. Christ, how pretentious. Add plenty of salt and pepper before cooking, too!
Oh and finally! Pease pudding in the supermarket is about 70p for a little pot. This recipe makes about 10 pots worth for £1 of ingredients. Pease pudding freezes well, so get it done!
It's this easy!
https://youtu.be/AW-N72urmbc
Ingredients
500g of yellow split peas
one large chopped onion
1100ml of ham stock
one bottle of Newcastle Brown Ale (330ml) (6 syns) (optional)
a right good pinch of black pepper and salt
Instructions
if you're using the ale, reduce it down by adding it into a pan and allowing to reduce on the heat until it's reduced by about a third
if you're using an Instant Pot, throw it all in, turn the vent to seal, stick it on manual for twenty minutes
once cooked, let out the pressure, give it a good stir and then leave to cool
it'll thicken up in the fridge - portion up and freeze
if you don't have an Instant Pot, you can do this on the hob - just allow to blip and simmer away for as long as it takes
Notes
We love our Instant Pot - one of our favourite gadgets, and after being out of stock for a whole year, they're NOW AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER! Have a look through the recipes we posted at the bottom of this post for more ideas but in the meantime, if you've sat on the fence about getting one, now is the time to get it! Order one here!
Coursessnacks
CuisineBritish
Easy! Want some more Instant Pot / Pressure King recipes? Then here you go:
You’re here for the coronation chicken pasta salad, and who can blame you? Lunch times – when you work – are one of the hardest meals to get right when you’re on Slimming World. There’s only so many times you can crack open a tupperware box of cherry tomatoes and unwrap a Hifi bar before you seriously contemplate pushing your face into your desk-fan and ending it all. No? Just me?
Well the good news is it’s just a quick post tonight as we’ve got boot-camp to go to and these tits aren’t going to heave themselves, are they? But I do have a quick question for all the cat lovers out there: is there a reason why a perfectly standoffish cat would certainly be all over me like bird crap o a just-washed car?
I ask because that’s exactly what has happened with Bowser, our tom cat with the torn ears. He’s gone from spending his life giving me disdainful looks and wiping his arse on the carpet (particularly galling – he’s fully wormed, so he’s doing it out of spite and/or copying Paul) to hanging around me all day, mewing and purring. He seems happy enough – no obvious pain, eating his food, constantly looking cheerful, he’s given up smoking – but I can’t deny it isn’t getting irritating.
Things came to a head today when I woke up with his tiny little anus about the distance of the thickness of a stamp away from my eyes. He had decided, in his infinite, faintly-Whiskers-scented wisdom, that the first thing I needed to see when I cracked my eyes open was an extreme close-up of what looked like a drought-hit reservoir. It took me a moment or two to work it out, and you can only imagine how pleased I was that I hadn’t assumed it was Paul coming in for a kiss.
I forgave him quick enough when he turned on his tractor-purr and started padding about. He means well, and anyway, who hasn’t been so proud of their own jail purse that they want to show their nearest and dearest? It’s why I’m not welcome at weddings.
However, I can forgive many things, but not using my scrotum as a pulling-up point. See, in his haste to get up on my shoulders, he decided to climb up me as I sat nude after the shower – and rather than using his feline athleticism to leap up onto the back of my chair as he has done so many times previously, he jumped up and implanted his claws right into my ball-sack on his way up.
Well.
I’m amazed that he didn’t explode Scanners-style, given how high-pitched and immediate my reaction was. He dashed out into the garden whilst I tried to work out how I’d gone from approving posts on facebook to staggering around with a punctured spunk-bunker. Thank god I don’t need to worry about my fertility.
Anyway. All is well. I sat on a bag of peas for a bit (Paul can have them in his dinner, they’ll come with free dental-floss for after) and thankfully, everything still seems to work. At 4pm the cat came back in and, looking as compunctious as a cat can be, spent the next hour rubbing against my legs and purring until I picked him up and placed him back on my shoulder.
If anyone has any clues as to why he’s suddenly come over all familiar, I’d be delighted to hear it. Now, let’s get this coronation chicken pasta salad underway, yes?
Listen, you can chuck anything into a salad like this, but we've kept it simple. If you want to drop the syns, leave out the mango chutney or get rid of the sultanas, but listen: this makes six massive portions, and the syns make it so much better. You'll enjoy this coronation chicken pasta salad more for using proper ingredients, trust me.
You can leave out the chicken if you want to keep costs down!
Ingredients
500g of macaroni pasta
220g of Philadelphia Lightest (this is 2 HEAs - so you're using a third of your HEA...up to you if you just want to sneak it through - gasp!)
1 tablespoon of mild curry powder
4 tbsp of mango chutney (6 syns)
200g of fat-free natural yoghurt
50g sultanas (7 syns)
1/2 cucumber, deseeded and diced
2 celery sticks, diced
juice of half a lemon
two chicken breasts, cooked and diced/shredded (feel free to leave this out)
pinch of salt
So that's thirteen syns between six servings - let's call it two syns each. These are big portions!
Instructions
well I mean, come on
cook the pasta, drain it and run a load of cold water through it so it doesn't stick
chop the celery, chicken and cucumber (remove the seeds)
mix everything together in a giant bowl
tadaaaaa!
so how easy was that?
Notes
this will keep in the fridge for a few days, but good luck not picking away at it - ours didn't last more than two days...
we got the base of this recipe from BBC Good Food, and adapted it a little to add taste
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 dialhun. 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 - 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
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
Coursessoul food
Cuisinecomfort
See? Easy! Want some more comfort dishes? Why not have a review of some of the following:
