SO TODAY IS a) Mothers’ Day, b) arguably the first day of Spring, c) the last ever Sunday that I’ll be spending at uni actually working, and d) Sunday (subtext: I woke up very late and immediately phoned home 4 times and mum’s mobile twice before anyone picked up, only to be shouted at for ‘calling every bloody phone in the house’. Maybe pick up the phone the first time you hear it, mum, and I won’t have to). I’ll focus on the first of these ‘days’ for this post because I feel Mum deserves it despite the fact that she and dad are going to the zoo without me today whilst I sit in my room and write this instead of writing my dissertation. Betrayal doesn’t quite cover what I’m feeling right now.
Since I can’t actually be with mum on Mothers’ Day I thought I’d write a post telling her all the ways I’m slowly becoming her (sorry Dad, when I return from uni you’ll find there are two women nagging you to ‘close the fucking fridge door’, not one). So mum, though you probably won’t read this for a while because you still haven’t figured out how to find my blog on the web, here’s a list of the ways in which we’re becoming the same:
- During the holidays I used to lament the fact that you wake up at 7am sharp every day, subsequently waking up the whole house when Dad was then forced to go make the tea and bring the biscuits up. But sadly, bar the days when I’m still drunk in the morning, I will now wake up, with military precision, at 7am. At least now I can shout at Dad to bring me tea as well (again, sorry Dad).
- Slamming doors anger me. Open fridges anger me. Plates on the side anger me. Glasses that may or may not be finished with but remain ambiguously sat on the dining table anger me. I used to get annoyed at you for getting annoyed at these things, but now I get annoyed at them too, which annoys me even more.
- I ordered a glass of wine yesterday and had to ask for ice to add to it. I didn’t dilute it with half a glass of water to make a shitty flat version of a spritzer like you do (I’m not there yet), but I’m clearly on my way.
- I went to bed an hour early last night so I wouldn’t lose any sleep when the clocks went forward. It was a Saturday night, and I’m 21.
- In fact, my sleeping patterns in general now match yours. Bed at 10, up at 7. What a life.
I could literally go on for pages about all the different habits of yours that I’ve adopted but I don’t want to bore everyone else reading this post, so I’ll simply conclude that I can only hope that my slow metamorphosis into you means that I’ll also adopt your bizarre but fantastic sense of humour, your unique strangeness and your ability to make amazing pies (see last post for more info on said pies). Happy Mothers’ Day, thanks for raising me/tolerating me/moaning about Dad with me/teaching me to cook. Can’t wait to return home and argue over who has authority in the kitchen.
By the way, the snapchats you keep sending me of the penguins at the zoo (my favourite part as a child) are not appreciated.
To honour Mothers’ Day/the first day of Spring/last Sunday that I’ll be technically ‘at’ uni/Sunday, I’m sharing a recipe for the honey glazed parsnip and caramelised onion galette I made the other day. It takes half an hour, costs next to nothing and can easily feed a crowd if you double up on ingredients. And it’s got cheese so you can’t say no.
Honey and Thyme glazed Parsnip and Onion Galette for 2
1 parsnip, peeled and chopped into large chunks
1 small red onion, sliced into half moons
2 sprigs of thyme
1 garlic clove, crushed
1-2 tbsp runny honey
1 pack filo pastry
A drizzle of double cream (optional but adds richness)
Egg yolk, to glaze
Seeds or breadcrumbs to top
- Preheat the oven to 180 fan. Bring a pan of water to boil and throw in the parsnips, cooking until tender. Drain and set aside.
- In a frying pan on low/medium, drizzle some oil and add the onions, leaving in the pan to allow them to start caramelising. Stir after 5 minutes and add the garlic. Continue to stir until they become soft and sweet.
- Add the parsnips to the pan along with the thyme, honey and some salt and pepper. Stir to coat everything – you may want to add a dash of water to prevent the honey burning and to ensure everything is coated in the glaze.
- Layer 3/4 sheets of filo onto a baking tin and spoon the parsnip/onion mixture into the middle, piling it high. Drizzle the cream over the top, if using. Fold the edges of the filo over the mix to make the galette shape, before brushing with egg yolk and topping with grated parmesan.
- Sprinkle over the seeds or breadcrumbs if using, and bake in the oven for 20 minutes or until crispy and golden.
- Although I didn’t at the time, I’d serve this with a leafy salad with a citrus dressing to cut through the sweetness and richness of the galette.