I keep giving this recipe to people so thought I'd put it up here for ease of distribution...
Beef stew with dumplings
Takes 25 mins to prepare, 3 hours 40 mins to cook
Serves 6 (midgets) or 4 (normal people)
358 calories per serving, 12g fat (4g saturates) (based on midget-sized portions).
2tbsp sunflower oil
450g stewing steak, cut into 5cm (2inch) pieces
2 medium onions, finely sliced
2 carrots, sliced (not too finely)
350g swede, peeled and cut into chunks
2tbsp plain flour
150ml Guinness (or red wine if you're not a Guinness fan)
300ml hot beef stock
2tsp dark brown sugar
1tbsp Worcestershire sauce
1 bay leaf
1 thyme sprig
For the dumplings:
200g plain flour
3tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp dry English mustard (though I've just used normal mustard before and cut back slightly on the water added)
1/2 tsp salt
50g low-fat vegetable suet
2tbsp mixed freshly chopped herbs (like parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme)
150ml water (though you'll probably find that's too much)
Preheat the oven to 150 degrees Celsius (or 130 if you're using the fan oven). Heat 1tbsp oil in a large, flameproof casserole dish or heavy bottomed pan and brown the beef in batches. Set aside.
Add remaining oil to the pan and gently fry the onions and carrot for 10min until softened. Add the swede and cook for 2 mins
Return beef to the pan, sprinkle in the flour and cook for 1 min. Gradually stir in the Guinness and stock. Add sugar, Worcestershire sauce, bay leaf and thyme and bring to the boil. If you haven't cooked in a casserole dish, transfer this mixture to a casserole dish now (it need to be fairly deep (about 10cm high by 15cm wide, or bigger). Cover and cook in the over for three hours. The beef should be so tender you can cut it with a spoon.
To make the dumplings, sift the flour, baking powder, mustard and 1/2 tsp salt into a bowl. Stir in the suet and mixed herbs. Using a flat-bladed knife, stir in around 150ml cold water (or less if you use wet mustard. Either way, stir the water in gradually and stop as soon as you've created a soft dough, you don't want it too sticky).
Divide dough into 12 and roll into balls. Drop on to stew, spaced evenly apart. Cover and cook for 20 mins until puffed up. Remove lid and return to the oven for 5 min to finish cooking dumplings.
Serve with seasonal vegetables.
Sunday, 22 May 2011
Thursday, 7 April 2011
eHarmony
www.eharmony.co.uk
Cost: £100+ if you’re an idiot like me and forget to opt out of the automatic monthly payments. Or £34.95 per month if you’re not an idiot like me.
eHarmony markets itself with words like ‘values’, ‘beliefs’ and ‘marriage’. After you’ve filled out an in-depth character analysis survey and set up your profile you will be sent compatible matches – usually averaging around half a dozen per day. There’s no search function available and you won’t be able to see your matches’ pictures until you’ve opened their profile. At eHarmony looks don’t matter, it’s all about the ‘personality’. Basically, it’s the ugly fat kid of dating websites.
The men: short, fat and bald. Or perhaps that’s just the kind I’m actually compatible with (and explains why my predilection for tall dark and handsome has failed me so far). I don’t mean to be shallow or anything… oh fuck it, yes I do. They all looked like Uncle Fester and I’m more of a Gomez kind of girl.
Pros: If you’re not as shallow as me, or if you’re also short, fat and bald, eHarmony is your ideal dating arena. It could also give you the opportunity to try a new kind of man-flavour: ugly yet tasty, anyone?
Cons: I paid £34.95 per month to have my inbox cluttered up with profiles of fugly men, then, after setting eHarmony emails to ‘spam’, forgot my subscription and ended up £100 out of pocket. If you’re thinking: “Good! That’s karma for writing such a bitchy blog post”, please read this article.
Cost: £100+ if you’re an idiot like me and forget to opt out of the automatic monthly payments. Or £34.95 per month if you’re not an idiot like me.
eHarmony markets itself with words like ‘values’, ‘beliefs’ and ‘marriage’. After you’ve filled out an in-depth character analysis survey and set up your profile you will be sent compatible matches – usually averaging around half a dozen per day. There’s no search function available and you won’t be able to see your matches’ pictures until you’ve opened their profile. At eHarmony looks don’t matter, it’s all about the ‘personality’. Basically, it’s the ugly fat kid of dating websites.
The men: short, fat and bald. Or perhaps that’s just the kind I’m actually compatible with (and explains why my predilection for tall dark and handsome has failed me so far). I don’t mean to be shallow or anything… oh fuck it, yes I do. They all looked like Uncle Fester and I’m more of a Gomez kind of girl.
Pros: If you’re not as shallow as me, or if you’re also short, fat and bald, eHarmony is your ideal dating arena. It could also give you the opportunity to try a new kind of man-flavour: ugly yet tasty, anyone?
Cons: I paid £34.95 per month to have my inbox cluttered up with profiles of fugly men, then, after setting eHarmony emails to ‘spam’, forgot my subscription and ended up £100 out of pocket. If you’re thinking: “Good! That’s karma for writing such a bitchy blog post”, please read this article.
Sunday, 27 March 2011
There are so many dating websites out there... which one should I choose? Part 2.
Match – www.match.com
Cost: £29.99 per month
Match touts itself as the UK’s largest dating website, with ‘more dates, more relationships and more marriages than any other’. You can browse members’ profiles and then either ‘wink’ at or email the potentials. If you’re both online at the same time there’s also a live chat feature.
The men: Frankly, a bit mundane. Match is designed to appeal to the masses so they have succeeded in attracting a lot of mainstream bores. You know the kind I mean: he thinks he’s fashionable because he wears a white shirt out clubbing and well travelled because he visits mum in Cornwall once a month. However, there are so many fish in the match pond you’re bound to find a marlin amongst the guppies.
Pros: Easy to navigate, plenty of men to browse through, no weird quirky features... oh god it’s so blah I can’t get inspired to write anything vaguely witty... a good site for internet dating beginners.
Cons: Cancelling your match subscription could be more painful than any of the mundane dates you go on. Match automatically debits your account each month if you don’t opt out, and to opt out you actually have to phone them and explain yourself. The conversation goes something like this (and I’ve personally experienced both versions):
Be Naughty In London – www.benaughtyinlondon.com
Disclaimer: I registered with this site purely for research purposes. Ehem.
Cost: Free!
Sick of all this ‘love’ crap and just want to get laid? Be Naughty In London offers casual online dating for naughty singles. Apparently, more than 7 million people have already joined, but I’m willing to bet at least 20% of those memberships are bad practical jokes. You sign up and register your ‘tastes’ – toys / same sex fun / groups etc – then, regardless of whether you have written anything in your profile or have a photo, you will be bombarded by messages from men with erect penises as their profile picture. Hoorah!
The men: Horny and apparently obsessed with literature. Of the seven unsolicited messages I received, five of them were from men asking how many books I read each year / whether I prefer fiction or non-fiction / what book I think should be made into a movie etc. There’s nothing in my very limited profile about reading, so I just don’t understand where all this culture bullshit came from... perhaps I’ve cracked some secret man code? Ladies: if a man ever approaches you in a bar and asks who your favourite author is, BEWARE.
Pros: It’s funny as hell! I suppose if you’re having a REALLY dry spell it might serve a purpose? Ew.
Cons: Aside from most members looking like (and probably being) serial killers? You’ll receive regular, very inappropriately titled emails alerting you to potential shags. Trust me, you’ll quickly learn not to check your personal emails in an open office...
Cost: £29.99 per month
Match touts itself as the UK’s largest dating website, with ‘more dates, more relationships and more marriages than any other’. You can browse members’ profiles and then either ‘wink’ at or email the potentials. If you’re both online at the same time there’s also a live chat feature.
The men: Frankly, a bit mundane. Match is designed to appeal to the masses so they have succeeded in attracting a lot of mainstream bores. You know the kind I mean: he thinks he’s fashionable because he wears a white shirt out clubbing and well travelled because he visits mum in Cornwall once a month. However, there are so many fish in the match pond you’re bound to find a marlin amongst the guppies.
Pros: Easy to navigate, plenty of men to browse through, no weird quirky features... oh god it’s so blah I can’t get inspired to write anything vaguely witty... a good site for internet dating beginners.
Cons: Cancelling your match subscription could be more painful than any of the mundane dates you go on. Match automatically debits your account each month if you don’t opt out, and to opt out you actually have to phone them and explain yourself. The conversation goes something like this (and I’ve personally experienced both versions):
Be Naughty In London – www.benaughtyinlondon.com
Disclaimer: I registered with this site purely for research purposes. Ehem.
Cost: Free!
Sick of all this ‘love’ crap and just want to get laid? Be Naughty In London offers casual online dating for naughty singles. Apparently, more than 7 million people have already joined, but I’m willing to bet at least 20% of those memberships are bad practical jokes. You sign up and register your ‘tastes’ – toys / same sex fun / groups etc – then, regardless of whether you have written anything in your profile or have a photo, you will be bombarded by messages from men with erect penises as their profile picture. Hoorah!
The men: Horny and apparently obsessed with literature. Of the seven unsolicited messages I received, five of them were from men asking how many books I read each year / whether I prefer fiction or non-fiction / what book I think should be made into a movie etc. There’s nothing in my very limited profile about reading, so I just don’t understand where all this culture bullshit came from... perhaps I’ve cracked some secret man code? Ladies: if a man ever approaches you in a bar and asks who your favourite author is, BEWARE.
Pros: It’s funny as hell! I suppose if you’re having a REALLY dry spell it might serve a purpose? Ew.
Cons: Aside from most members looking like (and probably being) serial killers? You’ll receive regular, very inappropriately titled emails alerting you to potential shags. Trust me, you’ll quickly learn not to check your personal emails in an open office...
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