Is it me, or is it hot in here?

To answer my own question, yes, it is a trifle warm.  Not summer though, is it?  Not time for wearing shorts yet, is it, young man in the street?  Not really ideal temperature for flip flops, is it, silly girl on the tube?  Come on now, everyone, stop getting ahead of yourselves and accept it - it's still a bit nippy.  Yes, spring is on its way, yes, birds are tweeting, yes, I'm just happy as you are that the sun is shining a bit more and that the evenings are getting lighter, but really now.  No thank you, I don't want an ice cream.

While I may be tentatively edging towards lunchtime salads of roasted veg and pulses, or am starting to feel that my soup would be nicer made with greens rather than roots, dinner definitely still needs to be hot and bolstering.  It's February, it's still winter and quite frankly, I mainly want melted cheese.

Not in the morning though.  No no, morning is porridge time.  Inspired by the tweetings of so many foodies, I produced this little number to persuade my flatmate that getting up at 9am is not really one of life's hardships:

Raisin and cinnamon porridge, topped with demerara sugar and toasted flaked almonds

Yes, I was rather surprised that I thought of all this that early too.

Harking back to my previous post about wanting colour at this time of year, this old recipe popped into my head one evening: tomatoes simmered with garlic and chorizo, then stirred through penne pasta, along with mozzarella, parmesan and rocket:

And so the melted cheese begins...

Once a year, there comes that day when the stars have aligned so that you have sausages in the fridge, enough milk to make a batter and an after-dinner tea, and a lonely splosh of leftover red wine, only fit for onion gravy.  Then, and only then, is when you make toad in the hole in your lovely enamel Christmas present:

Sans gravy, which was basically a plate of brown stuff

All these delicious things aside though, there is one ultimate, one king of cosy cuisine.  The Baked Potato.  With Baked Beans AND Cheese AND Worcestershire Sauce.

Kneel down before your sovereign, wot is on your lap anyway, for all four of them art great

I ate it all.