For Sixteen Nights And Days He Raved
Nobody these days has old fashioned illnesses anymore. Everyone has a specialized, complicated sounding, life threatening, rare illness or atleast it seems that way to me. Everyone, save I. I have inflammation of tonsils and as they plague my existence by making me feverish, I eat soup by the buckets because it seems so comforting. This is my interpretation of Jamie Oliver's Minestrone. It looks mighty ugly, but the taste, despite my tonsils - mamma mia!
I use only fresh tomatoes for all my cooking in India because one doesn't get canned tomatoes easily and it isn't cost effective. Also, I just chuck any pasta I have at home and top it up with parmesan, a blob of pesto and freshly ground pepper. I'm not posting the recipe because it isn't mine, but by far Jamie's recipe is the best and also one of the easiest and also allows a lot of scope for cheating.
Labels: Food
1 Comments:
I have good, old-fashioned manflu, but I'm not eating anything inspired by Jamie Oliver. I want my mother's soup.
Jamie Oliver Fact #71. He's a hero for helping schools provide "healthy lunches for overweight schoolkids" and at the same time makes a fortune for doing voiceovers for a supermarket chain (Sainsbury's) along the lines of "and then pour over 4 pints of double dream - go on, treat yourself." God, I hate him.
Neil Fact #1. I'm feeling miserable (and bitter and twisted, obviously) - I think I'd be a willing customer for a Thappad Supari business. "That Jamie Oliver character - go and sort him out and make him stop pretending to be a cockney."
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