So, I'm having a cliterati gathering later this week and figured that I'd test out the cocktail kit I got bought for my birthday. Yep, I admit it, I still aspire to being in Sex in the City. Hell, if Carrie can afford to live in NY and have that lifestyle on the proceeds of a weekly column about sex, I'm in the wrong damn city. I've got the cocktail list sorted and ordered the ingredients from Ocado (life's too short to waste time in supermarkets)
I thought I'd make some canapes cos we'll be spending far too much time talking about editorial stuff and getting hammered to bother sitting down for a full meal. But apparently canapes are not 'done'. I've read through all my cookbooks, ranging from the obligatory trendy chef books that I ask for whenever someone asks what I want for christmas to the knackered old favourites (including the brilliant Slut's Cookbook by Erin Pizzey that I picked up at a jumble sale years ago and is now sadly out of print.) but can I find canapes? Can I hell. Other than a couple of roasted vegetable things and French beans wrapped in Parma ham, there's bugger all.
So, I'm toying with the idea of sushi. Other than the fact that it takes years of training to be a sushi chef and all that raw fish in the hands of an untrained person is probably lethal, it's got to be worth a try. I spent a leisurely five minutes wandering round the Wing Yip Chinese supermarket (small print on opening signs outside shops should be banned - in 5 foot high letters emblazoned along the length of the building 'Open till 7pm'. In 5 point type, only visible if you press your nose to the sign, '5.30pm on Sundays') and have stocked up on miso, wasabi and various things in jars that looked interesting.
If Cliterati ceases to exist this week, it will be because I've poisoned the editorial team. Sorry.
Posted by emilyd at July 08, 2002 12:23 AM