Further to my pork stew soliloquy on meat from the reduced section of the supermarket, I had some minute steaks lurking in the freezer, marred by the yellow ‘reduced’ sticker which adorns many meats in the icy purgatory of the deep freeze, waiting for the day when they would finally meet their fate. Now, we don’t have minute steaks in the US – or rather, we probably do, but they are called something else – but I assumed from the name that they are for quick cooking which suited my purposes fine and for £1 I would’ve bought pretty much anything.
I think we can safely say that, even in my short life as a blogger, I have established my love for Asian flavors. The strange thing is, I don’t like ginger in any other guise – not in candy, not in drinks, not in cakes or cookies – but put it with some meat and a few vegetables and I’m singing it’s praises.
Some of our close friends had family visiting from Poland last week and, as ever, I looked at that as the opportunity for a dinner party. Dinner parties seem to have this stigma, this pretentious air about them which puts people off. In our house they are simply an excuse to have good friends over, drink lots of wine and, of course, for me to get in the kitchen and cook up a three course meal.