It was a night to remember...

...but I guess I just forgot (in the immortal words of The Men They Couldn't Hang).

We had a bit of a family get together on Wednesday and I thought it best to rustle up something particularly scrummy to ram down various younger people's necks. It's always fun to chop and slice away in the kitchen, trying to avoid lopping the end off a finger or two in the process. I found a new recipe and gave it a bash. Trout with mint and orange; it was a tad on the fiddly side to prepare - but if I say so myself it was loverly. We enjoyed guzzling it so much that I forgot to take a photo of the finished article, but here it is just before being shoved into the oven:

We were joined by Lizzie and her new squeeze who's called Tom and, for his sins, comes from Pillaton. Despite claiming not to like fish and to be suffering from a dicky tummy he managed to slurp everything from his well loaded platter. I'm told he took the next day off work, feeling tom-and-dick; I have to hope it wasn't my cooking.

Tom is pictured for the first time in these musings on the left alongside Lizzie (I can't call her Ivy anymore due to the lack of an Ollie).

Whenever we entertain I have a fear of someone leaving my table hungry and consequently tend to do big portions. This time, I may not have made them big enough. EarMatt and Dozybean were also in attendance and felt obliged to snaffle an entire packet of liquorice bootlaces for pudding.

EarMatt and Dozybean were off the following morning on a grand odyssey to Bath to see assorted relatives and groupies; we're looking forward to news of their travels in far flung outposts.

Happy trails, to you, until we meet again....