For last couple of days I was going there and back between our flat and Simon's parents house, in Haddington helping my (almost, let's not be too pernickety) parents -in-law after their disatrous month of various illnesses. Simon's mum was suddenly taken into a hospital last week and after her return home is still very weak and on painkillers so I packed my bag and went to play Mary Poppins for couple of days (Simon being on photographic comission in Ukraine for next couple of days). Luckily kids did not require any magic tricks and were surprisingly keen on peeling the potatoes, scraping carrots and unstocking the dishwasher.
I just know why I have been avoiding cooking potatoes (or tatties as they ar known in Scotland) - one never knows how long they are going to take so one ends up with a family salivating at the table, clutching tightly to their knives and forks while you pray in front of the cooker so that the pot stuffed with potatoes would finally BOIL. Then the chicken shrinks surprisingly to supertiny pieces though you were sure you have overestimated the amount so that you could have it ready for another dish for tomorrow's dinner...
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