The lockdown blog: day 13

 If you look at things from a completely different point of view, you'll see some pretty f**** weird stuff. 

Example: Porridge. Just a morning meal to have with honey, a la three bears and a gold haired child?

Aha, no. That's where you're wrong.  Porridge can be savoury and turned into a cheap fools risotto. I'm even going to tell you how, despite your disgusted face. Fry some garlic and chilli in a pot, throw in some black pepper and spinach-- then, if you're feeling fishy, put in some mackerel. At this point, you can add your oats. Toast your oats, stir your oats and finally, water your oats. Continue to water until the mix begins to look thick and creamy like, well, porridge and then, just to make things even creamier; crack some eggs into the mix like an absolute mad yolk. If you're really feeling adventurous, you could whisk some soy sauce into those eggs. Trust me, it's good. I garnished this with mozzarella and, as we're good eggs that support local, make it Macroom Buffalo Mozzarella. It oozes flavour. Again, trust me.

Foolish risotto? Don't slate it till you try it. I saw things from a completely different point of view. My mind was opened. I'll never look at porridge the same way again. Not too eggy, not too gloopy but juuuust right. I can even add goldilocks as a referee. She knows her stuff.

As well as providing you with a recipe, the above is a glimpse into my morning. I sadly cannot lay claim to this radical porridge recipe--this was suggested to me by a very radical friend. So radical, in fact that she cycled yesterday with her helmet on backwards. The result was an anthropomorphised Jaws image, or, in the parlance of our times, a baby shark do do do do-do-do-do. 

And no, the backwards helmet was not intentional, she's just a loveable fool, one that has begun to claim celebrity status on this blog. She is the character featured in the ill-advised London to Brighton cycling trip. I wrote about this trip by way of therapy as well as any documentation purposes. Give it a read and use it as an instruction manual on how NOT to do a cycling trip. The truth is, we're both fools and that's what makes it such a beautiful friendship. Other ingredients, not mentioned in the porridge recipe, are a fondness for the song "Where Do You Go To My Lovely" by Peter Starstedt, enthusiastic yet terrible singing voices, questionable dance moves and four years of college spent together--all kindled when thrown into a group project in which we explained Keynesian economics through cats. A great CATalyst for any friendship. She will definitely not think that joke is funny. 

xoxo cool, smelly cats