Changing plans

The Fox is nervous about cooking fish in the slow cooker. It’s so easy to overcook the fish, drying it out & toughening it. Yesterday he decided to try a recipe for poached salmon with beurre blanc he’d come across, so he was nervous. With this is mind we decided to get the chores done first, then come home to cook.

So early in the afternoon we set off to the library. As we were passing, I thought I’d just pop in & make an appointment for a pre-Christmas hair cut. I was amazed to be asked if I wanted one doing there & then. I looked at the Fox, knowing his culinary anxiety & that a hair do would undoubtedly take about an hour. I would still need to get to the library to choose a book as I’d just that morning finished my last one. He said go ahead so I went ahead. The Fox meanwhile returned the books & jigsaws to the library & returned for me after the hour.

After I was once more transformed from a hairy monster into a cheeky mushroom with my new hair cut, I managed to push myself in my wheelchair to the library & started looking for something new to read. I left a message at the hair salon where I was going. Soon the Fox appeared, anxious we got home promptly as the salmon had to cook for a couple of hours. Fortunately I’d just found something that looked like promising reading so I took that book out.

We got home safely & got the fish on. The dilemma was trying to decide how long to allow for making the beurre blanc. We decided to give it 20 mins & time the veg, the potatoes & green beans, accordingly.

Having decided this, once the fish was on & the veg prepared we still had 45mins or so before putting the new potatoes on to cook & making the liquor in the cooker turn magically into beurre blanc. We decided to go & watch a recorded quiz, “Tipping Point”. With the ads taken out, it should occupy us for the required time & entertain us over a mug of tea.

The programme had barely started when the phone rang, Mrs B, our retired headmistress friend. We were supposed to be taking her to the golf club today for lunch. Her grand-daughter had just rung to say she was on her way for a pre-Christmas visit & needed somewhere to stay as her parents were away. Needless to say, Mrs B’s priority was her grand-daughter. The phone conversation put out our timing a bit. We watched the quiz, stopping midway to check how the fish was doing. It seemed quite cooked, so we thought we’d best bring meal time forward a bit. We finished the programme & hastily rushed back to the kitchen, me to put the veg on, the Fox to drain the salmon, reserving the liquor for the sauce.

It’s the first time the Fox has ever made beurre blanc. He was alarmed to see the liquor boil down to just a couple of tablespoonsfuls. He thought there wouldn’t be much sauce. Then he started whisking in the butter cubes, fearing all the while it would split & end up an oily mess. It didn’t. Indeed the meal turned out delicious. The sharpness of the reduced wine & lemon flavour cut through the butteriness. Delicious.

The first time the Fox saw beurre blanc being made was when a French friend came to stay with us. He decided to cook us some fish one day with beurre blanc. Our jaws dropped as we watched a whole 250g block of butter disappeared into the sauce. It was delicious but something to have as a treat, not every day. I’m not sure so much butter regularly is good for your health.

Today is my day with the slow cooker. I’m not doing anything so stressful. I’m going Italian with some chicken breast in a rich tomato sauce. That will plop happily, unsupervised, if we go off to the golf club for our regular bacon butty. We’ll be having it with some pasta & fresh bread, which we will buy on the way home. It should be good.