All About The Afters

Being a Valerie Singleton, I reckon I'm pitied by my coupley friends. They think I'm a lonely old spinster (hahaha), who doesn't eat properly (hahaha), that if I had a man I'd cook proper food (überhahaha). I often mention warming up a little tin of Heinz Tomato soup, or a nice Pot Noodle just to see their little faces look aghast...

Last night, my hard work paid off in spectacular fashion, and poor starving Spinsterella went to a great big fat foody ball chez The Marrieds.

Armed with a nice bottle of white and Gerry's finest Evangelista limoncello, I rocked up to witness a total mother of a pudding in the making (I'm not here to wax lyrical about the main course, tasty though it was - everyone knows pudding is the hero):

I bought them this heart-shaped Le Creuset as a wedding gift-

how sweet *barfs into bucket*

There'll be no over-egging this pudding

Not just bread and butter - organic lemon curd and pan d'oro, ta v much

Lady Married adding the finishing touches

I witnessed the obscene amount of cream, sugar and general oh-so-bad-but-goodness that went into it. Once we'd eaten a very healthy main course, pud appeared in all its glory, accompanied by my limoncello (snapped in Hipstamatic - there's something of the yesteryear about bread and butter pudding, and though this was a modern take on it, it made a pretty picture old-stylee):

Bravo, Lady Married - delicious

Limoncello: like an angel doing a citrus wee on your tongue

Lovely evening, lovely friends, lovely food. Lovely. Note to self: expand vocabulary, not just waistline.

(Postscript: during the course of the evening, chat moved - and I use this word advisedly - to bowel movements. It seems there's a thing called the Bristol Scale, which charts the type of stool one produces when doing one's toilet. Bit like a Richter scale for shit:

Fascinating. All agreed it was normal to have a look, and it seems we're all regularly knocking out 3 and 4 - like it states "sausage or snake, smooth and soft". Lord Married (this is a new identity for him - I have to protect these rock stars when talking about their toilet habits) says that in the past, and due to...ahem..."living it up", he has produced a 7 on several occasions. I can only surmise that when Elvis finally shitted off this mortal coil, he went up to 11. How more rock 'n' roll can you get?)