Monday was essentially a lazy day recovering from flights from Prague and Stansted Express runs. Apart, that is, from not one but two trips out to buy tinsel (which actually turned out to be garlands) for the poor, partially-dressed Christmas tree. Carol and I had planned a traditional roast for after the Sunday Stansted run but, following our pub lunch en route, nobody could actually face a large dinner so we did our best to emulate the American delicacy of BLTs, instead. [Note to self: in future, use fatty streaky bacon rather than the good stuff.] That left us with the traditional roast, though hopefully not so traditional as to overcook everything, for Monday.
So, while Keith fought with his point-and-click digital camera to try to understand its logic (it must have been bad, ‘cos Keith resorted to reading the manual), Carol and I fought over the cooker to prepare the Aberdeen Angus, roast potatoes, roast parsnips and, yes, Yorkshire puddings. Let’s see what southern American digestive systems would make of that. I’ve always been very nervous about serving beef to Keith because I know he likes to eat it while it’s still breathing! However, apart from our getting in the way of each other and the Yorkshire puddings being a little on the heavy side, it all finally came together and everybody seemed to enjoy the lightly cooked Angus and his friends. A vet is currently attempting to revive the left overs. 🙂