Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Margaret Sullavan's Peanut Butter Hermits

"Most actors are basically neurotic people. Terribly, terribly unhappy.
That's one of the reasons they become actors."

It's New Year's Eve and I have made Hermits for my workmates. It's like a ghost town here but we had to come in just in case somebody famous popped their clogs overnight and there was a clamour for footage. That hasn't happened. We should have brought in some board games, instead we've been finding pictures of fish in aspic on the internet to use as screensavers and - in my case - doing some research on Margaret Sullavan.

Oh, and reading cook books cover to cover is my new technique. It paid off yesterday when I discovered that the chefs at Pret a Manger feel that graham crackers (as found in the Hermits) are interchangable with digestive biscuits! I shall try that when I run out of GCs.

My French colleague Franchot was asking me just now why Margaret's biscuits were called Hermits. "Is it because they don't go out?" he asked. In turn I wonder if Peter Noone published a biscuit recipe it would be for Herman's Hermits...

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Charlton Heston's Spaghetti With Cauliflower


“I've played three presidents, three saints and two geniuses
and that's probably enough for any man”

The mention of Charlton's dish was not enough to persuade the new boyfriend to come over for dinner. I do admit that it doesn't sound too appetising but I switched the cauliflower for brocolli and it wasn't too bad for a mid week tv dinner. Grace and Ginger enjoyed it with Ginger wondering if we would all get "Hest Chests" if we ate enough of it.

I am back in cooking mode after a month of crazy adventures on the high seas cruising the Caribbean giving lectures on Hollywood stars. The bit I liked best was watching the water in the swimming pools being chucked all over the deck when we were in a 5 metre swell. I also liked the captain reading out the "naughty list" of passengers who were late reboarding the ship after a shore day. Luckily, although we cut it fine once in New Orleans, I never heard my name over the tannoy.