Burn, Baby, Burn!

Sometimes even the most intelligent people do daft things. CC Wells sell the most gorgeous red grapefruit, and about once a month, Bob and I treat ourselves and share one for breakfast [people on statins are supposed to avoid too much grapefruit] 

On Saturday, he said he'd get the meal prepared. In the 70s, I'd sprinkle my grapefruit with brown sugar, and pop it under the grill. Nowadays I get all cheffy, and blast it with my small cook's blowtorch.

Bob prefers to caramelise the sweet topping more thoroughly, so he uses his humongously large professional plumber's torch. This is not the best thing when you have put the fruit in plastic bowls. The edges are delicately singed with brown spots now. 

But I couldn't stay cross with him for long. A few hours later, I put a big pot of pasta on the stove, and it boiled over. I grabbed a handful of newly washed microfibre cloths and spread them quickly over the hob to mop up all the water. I think I should have let the ring cool a little first! Later on I managed to get everything clean and sparkly. My little hob scraper efficiently removed all the bits of crispy burnt cloth. I do like the way it has such an astonished face!

Liz recently sent me a picture of a dustbin in Southwark - another great example of pareidolia [seeing faces in inanimate objects] I'm posting these pictures especially for Kezzie, who loves such things.