So basically the other day after I got passionate about showing our support for local business, loads and loads of people read this blog.
Then some chaps at BBC Radio 4 liked what i had to say about the whole issue so much they got me on the ‘You and Yours’ programme to talk even more about business in Belfast.
So I finished up my morning appointments, then hot-footed it to BBC buildings on Ormeau Avenue in Belfast in JUST enough time to talk to the lovely Worricker .
You can hear it right here, at 27 minutes in:
Anyways, for a food blogger who mostly wangs on about Mr P and his shirts, this was Very, Very Exciting.
After I’d done my thing a lovely BBC producer showed me round the news room, and sent me off on my merry way, and I thought I was queen of the universe.
When I got back in to work people were mostly stroking my ego, and only partially taking the piss out of me for saying the word ‘crystallised’.
Mr P pretty much only took the piss out of that part when he listened.
But he wasn’t actually wearing a shirt at the time at all, so I forgave him.
Anyway, my lovely little dream world where I was actually an international food critic of a celebrity continued for most of the day through my meeting with my boss, through the half hour I spent in the store doing a stocktake, and even into getting stuck behind a bus that stopped at every single stop between Belfast city centre and my house.
Such was my fantasy dream world about being an international food critic of a celebrity I was kind of a bit disappointed to find my house looking, well, kind of the same as it did when I left it this morning.
The little pink kitchen was looking rather little, and pink, and lacking in pretty people who come bearing armfuls of flowers as seen on the tellybox anytime any international food critic of a celebrity has anything to celebrate.
Then I got some chicken piece out of the big pink fridge, and well they just sort of sat there.
They did not magically turn into some sort of tasty feast.
I mean, I sat and stared at the chicken thighs for a good ten minutes, and they just sort of sat there, in their stripy butcher’s bag laughing at me for my notions about world fame.
So I got out a bowl, and put in some flour and seasoning.
And then, because that dastardly chicken still wasn’t turning itself into a magnificent feast, I coated it in the flour.
Dejected at my lack of phone call from a world-renowned publisher, I heated some oil in a pan…
(and pan that could be cleaner. When I really am an international food critic of a celebrity, I shall pay somebody to do these trivial things for me)
Browned the chicken pieces for a few minutes each side…
And put the pieces on a plate.
By the time I took a leek and some mushrooms out of the big pink fridge, I’d got a congratulatory message on Facebook, and thought, for just a minute, that maybe I could be an international food critic of a celebrity.
It wasn’t to be, the leek and the mushroom just sort of hung around on the counter top.
So I sliced the leeks…
And the mushrooms.
I melted some butter in the pan,
Added the veg…
And grated a clove of garlic into the mix.
By this point, in my head, that scene out of ‘Julie and Julia’ was just about to happen, where she gets feature in the NY Times, and the phone is ringing off the hook for the rest of time with amazing offers of amazingness.
But I was still in the little pink kitchen, willing my chicken thighs to cook themselves.
So I crumbled a stock cube into the pan…
I put the flour leftover from coating the chicken in there…
Added some white wine somebody bought us at Christmas that really wasn’t very nice at all…
And put the chicken back in.
I let the whole lot simmer away for a good 45 minutes.
That was 17 minutes of standing in the little pink kitchen with my hands on my hips, pouting into an imaginary camera.
That was 4 minutes of perfecting a coy look over my shoulder as I stuck my finger in the pan to taste.
That was 13 minutes of wondering how I were to sit in Eason’s in Belfast if I were to make an appearance, signing my own cookbooks.
That was 3 minutes of being very thankful I have such short hair, because when Jamie invites me to make an appearance on his show, I won’t even get helmet head when I get off the back of his Vespa.
That was 7 minutes of squinting at the little pink kitchen, trying to figure out what it would look like in soft focus.
That was 1 minute of realising that I was not yet an international celebrity of a food critic.
So I removed the chicken from the pan…
Added some cream and salt…
Let the whole lot bubble away for a few minutes…
And served, with pasta.
Because, lets face it, at the end of the day even the international food critics of celebrities still have to think of what they are going to have for supper.
Creamy white wine chicken
Serves 2. Cooking time 1 hour.
4 chicken thighs
2 tablespoons plain flour
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 clove garlic
50ml double cream
400ml white wine
1 chicken stock cube
Salt and pepper
1. Put the flour, 1/2 tsp of salt and a few grinds of pepper in a bowl.
2. Mix well, and use to coat the chicken thighs. Keep the flour for later.
3. Heat the oil in a pan, and brown the thighs for a few minutes on each side before transferring to a plate.
4. Slice the leeks and mushrooms.
5. Melt the butter in the pan (no need to get rid of the oil) and add the mushrooms and leeks.
6. Grate in the garlic and allow to cook over a low heat for about 3-5 minutes.
7. Crumble in the stock cube, add the wine, return the chicken pieces to the pan.
8. Cover with a lid and simmer for 45 minutes.
9. Remove the chicken and put on a warm serving plate.
10. Add the cream and salt to taste to the pan, simmering for 2-3 minutes.
11. Pour the sauce over the chicken pieces and serve.