In my special new Non-Celebrity Fat Club feature, chronicling the unchecked expansion of my waistline, I intend to subject everyone, myself included, to a no-holds-barred blow by blow account of my consumption. My theory is that, if I have to admit to everything I've scoffed, it might deter me from pulling up a chair in front of the fridge and stuffing my face like a hamster. But I wouldn't bank on it...
NEW - for those of you who ping your teeth in the face of trying to lose weight, why no go a little mad and try out my recipe for coronation chicken like you've never had before? Whizz to the bottom of the page and prepare to put on a stone.
NEWSFLASH: Diet abandoned within a week. It all just seemed so, well, pointless... Had God meant me to be thin, he would have made me a lot taller for a start.
Monday 20th August... Day 1...
So far today, I have eaten: 2 cups of coffee with loads of milk and some sugar 1 glass of wine, large Half a cigarette 3 spoonfuls of creamy coleslaw 2 slices of bread straight out of the packet (eaten quickly) 1 bite of pork pie 4 ravioli things that Teenager No.2 left on her plate after lunch Half a peanut cookie, which turned out to be stale. Blurgh. 2 slices of ham
It's only 2 o'clock so do feel free to tune in later and see just how badly the day went. UPDATE: 8pm...
6 more bites of the pork pie (it's on its sell by date) 1 scone 2 more glasses of wine (or is it three?) Some crisps 3 (big) spoons of potato salad which may have been off 1 cigarette (okay, 2)
Tuesday 21st August... Day 2...
Hmmm. Reviewing the list above, yesterday didn't go particularly well so I've tried a different tack: eat as much as you possibly can in one sitting so that you can't face anything else for the rest of the day.
Breakfast: 12 cups of coffee 18 fags
Lunch: 15 metric tonnes of spaghetti carbonara 1 small bowl of salad leaves, no dressing 1 glass of wine, which has been open since yesterday and had a couple of flies in it
Supper: Nothing. Felt really ill.
Late night snack: Kingsize snickers stolen from Teenager No.2's handbag
Wednesday 22nd August... Day 3...
Oh dear. I was in London all day today hiding from my family and catching up with a girlfriend. The damage done on the diet front is beyond magnificent.
(Light) Lunch: Brompton Brasserie 1 basket of bread Another basket of bread 1 bowl of olives 1 kilo of butter 1 salad Nicoise 2 glasses of wine 1 bowl of chips
Mid-afternoon snack: 1 bottle of champagne (shared, although I use the word advisedly) 1 bowl of peanuts Another bowl of peanus 3 home-made chocolate brownies
Dinner: The Ivy 2 more baskets of bread Caviar (!!!!!) with all the trimmings 1 massive plate of potato gnocci 1 herb salad (small) Most of my companion's mashed potato and a bit of her steak Wine, although how much is anyone's guess
23rd August... Day 4...
Can't face food so far today. Feel really really ill. Note to self: yesterday's effort is an excellent method to put yourself off eating. UPDATE: a few hours later had a change of heart and went to the chippy.
24th - 31st August... Days 5 to 12
Not quite sure what happened here. Seemed to have forgotten that I was on a diet, which tends to happen with me, and have only just realised again, having not been able to do up my buttons this morning. God, I'm such a dunce.
Dieting makes you fat..
There is no doubt about it in my mind. Every time I try to lose weight, I end up sticking on a couple of hundredweight. I have recently taken to wearing the sofa covers.
CRASH TEST MUMMY'S AMAZING CORONATION CHICKEN
Forget all that gag-inducing nonsense made with raw curry powder and a tonne of cheap mayonnaise - this is the real thing. The quantity below should go around a decent house party, or just drag it all up to your bedroom and do your best with it while premenstrual.
You will need:
4 big dead chickens 3 big pots of Greek style natural yoghourt (unsweetened) A jar of regular mayonnaise A big knob of fresh ginger 2 cloves garlic 2 big handfuls of sultanas 1 jar Patak’s korma curry paste half a pot of medium curry powder, or just chuck the whole thing in if you're feeling spicy A heap of onions – say 4 biggish ones 2 tin coconut milk 2 tins of peach slices, drained 1 head of clean celery, diced 2 large ferrets (not really)
This is what you do: (be warned: the whole process can take up to 2 days, including wine consumption)
Roast the chickens and leave to cool.
Get a bloody great cooking pot and stick it on the heat with a generous squirt of sunflower oil. Say, half a cupful. Chop the onions quite finely and fry gently in the sunflower oil, which will take a little while. Don’t let them burn or go all brown. You’re looking for nice, softened, transparent onions which will start to release their sugar after about 15 minutes or so. You can tell because the spoon starts to pick up caramel. Don't rush this bit. Listen to some good music or something.
Finely chop the garlic and ginger. Sling those in the pan, give them just a scant minute with the soft onions, then bung in the whole jar of Pataks paste and the curry powder, stirring constantly until the spices are cooked (say about 5 minutes). It will turn into a big lump of paste. Keep stirring. If you don't cook the spices, the end dish will taste a bit raw.
Add the coconut milk, stir thoroughly, sling the sultanas which will need to cook and plumpen, and allow the sauce to cook for at least half an hour on a very low heat making sure that it doesn’t catch on the bottom. Leave in the pan to cool, which takes bloody ages. Do not turn it out of the pan. You'll need that for the mixing.
Strip the roasted chickens and cut into bite sized pieces. Throw into a seperate bowl. Allow to cool.
When the sauce is cool (it must be cool or the mayo will split and go horrible), mix in all the yoghourt and mayo – mix really well. Throw in the chopped celery and stir. Bung in the chicken pieces and mix thoroughly – be gentle or the chicken falls apart. Cut up the peaches into small chunks and fold through the chicken mix. Turn out onto a big serving dish and stand back while the crowds kill each other in the stampede.
TRADITIONAL SUNDAY LUNCH
As we approach 11am on this Sunday morning, I thought you might like to know what's happening in my kitchen. So, here is the recipe of the day...
Crash Test Mummy Sunday Lunch Preparation time: 0 minutes Serves: nobody Method: Lie around in bed with the newspapers. Whenever somebody comes in, scowl at them. When the hints start about 'what's for lunch', remind them that they are in possession of all their arms and legs and that the big silver thing in the kitchen is called a cooker.
This is a simple, must-have recipe at 10am every morning. Takes the edge off the day nicely.
Preparation time : 3 minutes Serves: 1 Calories: dunno
Make a coffee just as you like it, but filling only two thirds of the mug. Top up, right to the brim with brandy. Drink while reading a magazine. Repeat as necessary.
CRASH TEST MUMMY'S HOME MADE TOMATO KETCHUP
If, for whatever reason, you end up with a massive glut of tomatoes this year, then I suggest you come over all WI and turn it into the best tomato ketchup you've ever tasted. Now, please bear in mind that this is nothing like the stuff you buy in the shops, which has very little to do with tomatoes at all. And remember to have a bottle of wine open on the side. Oh, alright then, two.
For every 3kg or 6lbs ripe tomatoes… 2 sticks of celery (or 1 level tablespoon of celery salt) 1 large onion 2 large cloves of garlic Half a level teaspoon of cayenne pepper 1 level teaspoon ground ginger 1 level tablespoon of salt 1 level teaspoon ground cinnamon 1 level tablespoon ground coriander Half pint of distilled vinegar 8oz sugar
Wash the tomatoes and celery. Blanch the toms for 10 seconds and remove skins. Chop up all the ingredients and cook slowly until pulped. Sieve, rinse the pan, return the sieved mixture and boil to reduce, stirring until it’s the right consistency. Bottle while hot and sterilize. Hey presto. It's bloody delicious.