The Red Pot

The Red Pot is on the bottom shelf of the kitchen cupboard, being cast iron it is a good workout to pull it out and get it on the hob, there it sits, in its shiny splendidness with the tiny chip in the red enamel and the deep black interior. It always makes me smile, not least because I quite often cook mussels in it, which are one of my favourites and the reason it was given to me by my late mother-in-law, Renee.

Renee on any level was not a good cook and the pot sat on her shelf in her small kitchen ‘lean-two’ as she called it. We were sat there, one day looking out at her sweet garden, having our customary glass of wine. Renee only drunk whiskey, except for a while she took to drinking a glass of red wine at lunchtime after reading an article in the broad-sheets stating that it aided the digestion and had physical and mental well-being qualities. I did point out to her that the article did not mean to add a glass of red to the near three-quarters of a bottle of whiskey that she drank each day, as this rather contradicted the point of the article!

That weekend I was going to cook us all mussels and Renee wanted me to take the red pot as she said it was the best thing to cook mussels in and she was fed up with it sitting on her shelf collecting dust. Ben got the heavy pot down for us. Renee was insistent that she did not want the pot back it was mine to keep. So we all agreed – Moules Mariniere – mussels in their shells with onions in white wine – Yummy x

Renee liked a tipple or two, it was part of her character and something that she had done all her life, she grew up in an era where drinking was not frowned upon as it is today, sometimes she would talk about her past life when her and her husband used to start their drinking day off early with a good ‘Pinkers’, this was a drink made up of Gin, Angostura Bitters, sparkling rose wine with a garnish of ice cubes and red berries. Drink was part of her lifestyle. We were all used to it and almost all of us accepted that this was the way Renee was. It is easy to ‘right-off’ a drinker, as just a drinker, this is not always the case, Renee had been a school teacher and her skill with children was still called on even after her retirement, where she would go and teach special needs children and children with mental health issues, when she was not doing that she would read avidly; the only other person I have ever met that reads as much as Renee did is our daughter Tallulah. Renee was always on topic with the news and had very strong views on almost everything. She was very much more than a drinker.

I am not saying that after a day when she had more drink than most people would be able to cope with, particularly as she got older that this could affect her, obviously it did at times. One terrifying occasion, when the door knocker went at our house at about 2:30 in the afternoon, when I opened the door it was Renee standing there. She told me that she had just been in town and her car was now making the most dreadful noise, so as our house was the closest to town she came straight here. I went out to the car which was a very old two-tone brown mini. The trim on one side had been partially pull off and there were scrape marks down the side of the paintwork. I turned to Renee and asked her if she had hit anything? ‘Oh, that!’ she said smiling and pulling on her nose, which was a habit she had; ‘that, that is just bad workmanship, Eric put that trim on and it has come away.’ I looked at the damage again and looked back at her? ‘Might have been made a bit worse, when I had to swerve on the Wargrave Road to miss the bus and went up onto the curb into the bushes?’ she offered, just a little bit sheepishly, pulling on her nose again, then waving her hand. I pulled off the trim as it was sticking out, but realised this could not be the reason for any noise coming from the car. So I bent down and looked under the car, and there it was the culprit. I stood back up and asked her where she had been in town? ‘I haven’t been anywhere yet, I came over Henley Bridge, they are doing work on the road by the town hall – did you know? Anyway there were all this men in the middle of the road digging a hole as I went by them that is when the noise started and I came straight here.’ I bent down and looked under the car again, I couldn’t dislodge the offending article. There was a broom leant up against the house, so I got it and used the handle to manoeuvre the traffic cone out from under the car. Renee screamed with laughter at the mangled cone and said that she had looked in her rear view mirror and wondered why the work men were jumping out of the way an all the cones were knocked all over the road! Alcohol and driving do not mix!

Over the years there are many occasions that I cooked mussels in that red pot for Renee, the meal would always start off with her noticing the pot and saying that it was hers! I would say you gave it to me Renee and by the time she left I would feel a bit put out that she thought I had kept her pot and I would have it ready for to take back when Ben took her back home, obviously not letting her drive! She would then remonstrate that she had given me the pot and did not want it back! After many years I got used to the process and didn’t bother to offer it back. So I still have ‘my’ red pot and I do love it, it cooks so many things so well. And I always remember Renee whenever I use it. Cheers Renee….. x

A Twist on Mussels in White wine

I change the Moules Mariniere recipe occasionally, I add Chinese 5 Spice, paprika and chili flakes. Replace the wine for a tin of coconut milk. It is delicious!!  

The Egg Game…

When I was a child, my parents took us on a holiday to Lanzarote. We were staying with their German friends in their holiday home at Easter time. It was a revelation to me, when on Easter morning we arrived downstairs and the table was decorated with all manner of Easter styled chocolates & flowers, in the centre of the table was a huge bowl of rich shinny brightly coloured real boiled eggs. They had been dyed in boiling water & then polished with bacon fat! To my nearly ten year old mind this was chocolate heaven. I have never particularly liked sweet things as I have told in my story, clink the link below…

But I was partial to the odd Easter egg, the smarties one, although I once had my entire chocolate Easter egg collection given to me by the family for a whole year & a bit without any of the sweet confectionery ever being touched or taken out of its packaging . I do however love eggs, boiled eggs are my favourite, I still have two boiled eggs for breakfast every morning & on special occasions smoked salmon & fried eggs with mushrooms. So this table setting with its beautiful centre piece was right up my street!

You may have a heart of gold - But so does an egg!

On this bright sunny morning in Lanzarote our genial host also introduced us to the new game of an Easter Egg hunt … Childhood bliss, even if the chocolate was a tad on the melted side due to the hot early morning sun. We charged around the garden & collected all the chocolate that had been hidden - In plain sight!… Once this was completed, we entered the house for breakfast …

The table was laden with the normal German fare; beautiful sliced hams & cheeses were on offer, crisp toasts & orange juice all served with scrambled eggs & sweet smelling pickles & jars of what looked like to me small cucumbers which I now know to be called Gherkins! Having consumed our fill, our host introduced us to the egg game. We each chose a couple of eggs from the bowl, turned to the person sat next to us & took it in turns to smash the other persons egg with our egg! There seemed to be no particular rules you just kept picking up an egg & smashing it against the other persons egg? This amused our hosts no end & I enjoyed the strange game too…

Whatever the reason for this behaviour it left an indelible print on me.

The next Easter at home and for every Easter after that, we have played The Egg Game. However I developed my own version of this extraordinary game, & made some rudimentary rules, which you can find below.

My children have grown up with this tradition, we still do it now, & it takes president over the Easter Egg hunt! They have over the years enjoy decorating the eggs, if not cracking a few on the way & trying to choose the winner!

But I warn you!! It does get very competitive…

It is a bit of fun & if you are lucky …

You can enjoy egg sandwiches, later!

You can buy egg dyes on line …

Eggs ready to be decorated …