Guardian Girl


Posted in Fashion, Recipes, The Measure by guardiangirl on February 7, 2010

Sad to say a slightly morose wash has tinted this weekend, for no very good reason but that these things happen occasionally. Nothing has gone wrong, but I did feel a little lurch of the soul upon seeing the suet pudding recipes. It’s just the way it goes. On one page, a willowy blonde draped with finely woven pastel sports attire. On the next, 1001 great things to do with lard. It hardly seems fair.

Appropriately enough this week’s model’s expression happens to translate seamlessly into a sulk when I attempt it.

Last night Elin of the Crazy Mouse, her man Ed and Best Liv came over for roast beef with leek pudding. My gosh it were good. I forgave Hugh for the high stodge factor the moment that suet melted upon my petulant lips. A finer taste and texture I have rarely revelled in. NB have been reading Herodotus so excuse the narrative tone – it is Sunday, the day of self-indulgence. Also, don’t hate me – next to Herodotus on my shelves are the autobiographies of Jason Donovan and Kerry Katona.

I am at this very moment preparing beef pudding, although with a disappointing lack of kidneys due to a monumental Sainsburys oversight. I’m also drinking the red wine that hasn’t gone into the pudding filling, and listening to old Love records, so signing off quick before the wistful anecdotes come out to play. Please find below the photographic depiction of two outfits and a pudding, with no captions until I return to full desktop computer functionality tomorrow.

Have a grey day

Have a black mood

Leek pudding

Bleak pudding

In the pink

On the blink


• This isn’t a conclusion but a footnote. I make the rules on this blog so pipe down. On Friday, instead of cooking Yotam’s fine recipes, I went to the first Department S gig in 20 years. It was well good. I beseech you to find a Youtube clip of them performing Is Vic There? on TOTP and marvel at their coolness. Byesie bye x
• Actually one more thing: The Measure. My hair needs growing, not cutting, in order to incorporate a Brett Anderson fringe. Also Natwest continues its ploy to make my life miserable and difficult by blocking my card without prior warning this week. For this reason I’m surviving off a stash of cash and find the idea of buying a sequined jacket from Whistles to be not very sensible. Over and out.

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Leek terrine

Posted in Recipes by guardiangirl on October 14, 2009

What a night.

The leek terrine was the least interesting thing about it.

The rest will probably be frightfully dull for you but I’ll press on anyway.

First I had a bath and listened to Resonance FM, on which there was a most brilliant Wavelength/William English interview with a man called Captain Maurice Seddon. I recommend you click on that link and listen to it. He’s an eccentric gentleman who owns at least ten dogs and several freezers filled with food six years out of date, which he eats will no ill effects. But it’s his charm and his relationship with the interviewer that make it worth listening to. It was just a really good radio moment.

Then these two fellows came on pretending to be old men, as far as I could make out. The fact that they were preceded by an actual old man, and a very engaging one at that, set them back. They totally bombed really. I wasn’t too keen on the Brian Gittins character. But the Angelos Epithemiou dude was very funny.

There was one really good line in it (“I don’t like how you’re wearing your belt – why don’t you use the loops?”) and they also reminded me what a great tune Jellicle Cats is. I haven’t heard it since I was six. The rousing key changes! The sitcom-lite bassline!

Then I made the terrine.

It was easy – you boil leeks, put them in a clingfilm-lined loaf tin with a load of feta and some mint, and leave it for a while. I nearly didn’t bother with the clingfilm but my conscience got the better of me.

Then I watched the third episode of last year’s Criminal Justice. Then I watched the fourth. Then I turned out the terrine, at which point I was thankful I’d used the clingfilm. If I hadn’t, the whole structure would’ve fallen apart. I downloaded it on to a plate, stood back and felt dead chuffed with myself. The leeks made very attractive pale green lined patterns around the outside of the loaf, and it looked like a real thing. An Achievement. It was now about midnight, and I took some of the terrine with me to watch the final part of Criminal Justice, even though I was tired and it was a school night, because I couldn’t physically or mentally bear the suspense. I can’t believe telly can be this good. It’s also given me a highly inconvenient crush on Ben Whishaw, who is not a useful person to have a crush on for any number of reasons. I’ll allow myself to Google Image him only once today. Then I must move on. I haven’t had an embarrassing and inappropriate celeb crush since I accidentally brainwashed myself into being in love with Joaquin Phoenix while watching Walk the Line. That lasted a year, during which time one half of my brain genuinely believed I was going to marry him while the other half looked on in semi-disgusted pity. It was a confusing time for me and I hope this Ben Whishaw nonsense clears up quicker. 

If you can get hold of the DVD of that Criminal Justice you have to watch it. Pete Postlethwaite rules in it to. It’s just so much better than leek terrine.

Oh yes, the terrine. I should have squeezed all the water from the leeks before packing them into the tin as it went a bit soggy. I also thought it wasn’t worth bothering with the cider vinegar drizzled on top but that was a mistake. I have plenty of terrine left over so I’ll finish it another time with some of the thyme cider vinegar that has sat around being ignored in my kitchen since I made it months ago. I like the way Hugh F-W explains so carefully in the recipe how to slice the terrine. But even following his instructions it all fell apart for me, as is plain to see:

Leek terrine

Leek terrine


Freak terrine

Freak terrine



  • Although this constitutes a highly exciting evening by Guardian Girl standards, I realise in instant hindsight that it must sound much like a boring evening in to most other folks. I felt like an Amish kid in Disneyland.