Tallulah Bankhead's French 75s

“If I had to live my life again, I'd make the same mistakes, only sooner."

Last night saw extreme Silver Screen Supperage in action. Dinner al fresco which began with Tallulah's favourite tipple the French 75. Followed by Adolph Menjou's Spiced Venetian Cheese hors d'oevres, Errol Flynn's Baked Fish Havanaise and Joan Blondell's Peach and Cherry Compote. The first time I've attempted such a full-on menu of all-star food. Thank goodness for Ava's firm assistance in the kitchen and the kind words of my other guests Gladys and John.

Food was devoured, the wine flowed freely and revelations about the double dealings of Delia had us all on the edge of our balcony seats. I needn't have worried about cooking for a celebrity chef, he was most gracious about my food and said it was all as it should be and "delivered without fluster" which of course, for me was the biggest compliment. I guess that proof that the evening had gone swimmingly was to be found in the fact that there was no time to do a Marion Davies and work on the jigsaw.

Errol Flynn's Baked Leg of Lamb

“Women won't let me stay single and I won't let me stay married.”

Luckily Jack is nothing like Errol - he and Ginger were hitched on Saturday and that one is going to LAST. Those two were made for each other and now it's official.

We knew that after the glorious and loved up wedding our household would be in mourning over the loss of our little girl, so I invited Cary and William over to partake of Errol's Leg of Lamb. The butcher gave me the biggest leg he could find (£17 quids worth) and I baked it, throwing a cup of coffee with cream and sugar over it towards the end. Delicious.

Errol obviously knew what to do in the kitchen as well as in the bedroom...

Errol Flynn's Leg of Lamb

“The public has always expected me to be a playboy, and a decent chap
never lets his public down.”

I am beginning to think that Errol was quite a cook. His Leg of Lamb absolutely rocked. It was the cup of coffee with cream and sugar for basting that intrigued my supper guests. Ginger's beau said he could taste it in the crispy skin and the copyright busting addition of a third of a bottle of wine to the coffee infused gravy was an inspired touch by Cary. MMMM. I could eat another leg right now.

It is the dawn of a new year. How exciting. Many resolutions have been made involving a ukulele, a swimming pool, oily fish and nightclubs. The biggest resolution of course relates to men. For Rosalind insists we call these fellows men now not boys. The bottom line is this - no involvement in 2008 with men that make me cry. And I mean it!

Errol's Fish Dish Again

Had a lovely re-run of Errol Flynn's Baked Fish Havanaise with Paulette last night. It is the one and only dish that I can remember the ingredients for at the supermarket so I guess that makes it a house special.

I had a bit of a cry last night discussing the disastrous state of my love life. Today after lunch with my "Clarence" I have come to the conclusion that it is all my own stupid fault. If I insist on spending time with someone who thinks he is Errol Flynn why am I surprised when he behaves like Errol Flynn?

Errol Flynn's Tomato Fest

"The public has always expected me to be a playboy, and a decent chap never lets his public down."

Last night was Flynn Night on the boat. Radio 2’s excellent “Putting on the Style” was all about the swashbuckling “man’s man” so I cooked up some of his Devilled Tomatoes and accompanied them with his very own “Pick Me Up” tipple loaded with vodka. Was great to hear about Flynn’s extreme vanity and womanising. It put me in mind of a “Choccie” I used to know… It made me laugh to hear how Lily Damita used to fly into jealous rages and throw plates at him. Ah, been there, felt that…

The tomato dish was really scrumptious. Involved quite a bit of fannying about but it was worth it. Despite the fact that it was a boiling hot evening in the metal sweatbox I ate inside because I didn’t want to miss a second of the tittle tattle. For a split second though I thought how nice the tomatoes would be on toast in front of the fire on a rainy Sunday afternoon with “The Adventures of Robin Hood” on the TV. Good times are coming.

Errol Flynn's Baked Fish Havanaise

"It isn't what they say about you, it's what they whisper."

Mm. That was GOOD and DID cure my malaise for a few minutes. Easy to prepare, looked great on the plate and had all the cats on the island trotting up the ladder and poking their heads through the door to see what was cooking.

I am even considering making it again tonight for my dinner date. Yes. Forget about the "six months off men". The Black Panther has tired of prowling around the undergrowth and can't wait until the weekend arrives. He wants to see me TONIGHT. He is bringing pudding. Hmmm. And a toothbrush I hope...

There follows Mr Flynn's "Favourite Menu" - now THAT is what I call a Silver Screen Supper.

Dinner De Luxe
Blinis with Caviar and Sour Cream
Turtle Soup with Sherry and Wafers
Baked Fish Havanaise
Quail on Toast with Fresh Mushrooms
French Fried Asparagus, Artichoke Saute
Endive and Beet Salad
Crepes Suzette
Demi-tasse Napoleon Brandy

Not sure I'll be able to rustle up all that tonight in my boat kitchen on a table top oven that has to be turned on with a pair of pliers, but the Baked Fish Havanaise - THAT I can do! I might even be able do it freestyle without looking at the recipe. This will give the impression that I am a cook who knows what she is doing. Ha ha! How far from the truth!

Havanaise to Treat Malaise

Suffering from a bad case of malaise at the moment. Have been wandering listlessly around Richmond trying to cheer myself up with small purchases - several hair clips and two plectrums in the shape of skulls - to no avail.

Am going to attempt Errol Flynn's "Baked Fish Havanaise" tonight to see if it makes me feel any better. Everyone keeps banging on about fish oil being the cure for all ills - let's see if it works on a brain full of misery and foreboding. Don't exactly know what foreboding is but expect it is in there somewhere along with the seemingly endless rattle of recriminations, self doubt, woe and despair.

Rosalind's friend Anna MW told me last night that she was getting over a failed relationship and had decided to have "six months off men". This was something I hadn't considered but might be a good thing. Perhaps I should lie fallow for a few months. Like they used to make fields do in feudal Britain - maybe they still do...

Will report back on Errol's fishy dish. Not exactly sure what pimientos are but through the wonder of the internet am just about to find out.