Cooking Sunday lunch for my friends has always been one of my favourite things to do, and I am lucky enough to have a beautiful dining room here in London. My sister is quite perky at the moment, so I hosted an NYE reunion yesterday, and asked Brig along for the sixth seat, as I don’t see nearly enough of her.
On the menu: roast leg of lamb, studded with garlic slivers, massaged with a paste of pounded anchovies and butter, and sprinkled with Maldon salt, cauliflower purée, roast potatoes in olive oil, Hedgehog potatoes, and runner beans. Pudding was a golden sugar Pavlova with whipped cream and strawberries. I stuck candles in it as I’ll be missing Rachel’s birthday: I’m off to Rio on Monday.
There was a seventh guest, who was wriggling in paroxysms of anticipation.
I made a roasted aubergine purée for pre lunch snackage, and cucumber and celery sticks for scooping it up.
Hope springs eternal.
We started with Champagne, and moved on to two bottles of Margaux, a 2003 Château Cantenac Brown, which my mother had bought from Miss P, at Goedhuis, and then given to me as part of my Christmas present. (It was, unsurprisingly, phenomenally good.)
I peeled 1.5kg (about 5lbs) of Maris Pipers for the roasties, (which worked out as six each and ten extra) and another 750gms for the Hedgehogs (that’s 2.5lbs) and EVERY single potato was eaten. Pigs.
Even that solitary, languishing roastie got swiped by my sister.
We sat and chatted for hours, fuelled by red wine and then Nespresso shots and cappuccinos.
One of our party passed out after a roast lamb binge
After Rach, Brig and Holl departed, Hannah and Mark and I got stuck in the fourth bottle, and when they left at 2040hrs, I remembered that I was supposed to be at a party in Soho. A very quick change into my party dress later, followed by a sweep of bright lipstick, and I was Hailo-ing it to Anna and Tim’s 10 year wedding anniversary party.
LOVE the special postage stamps which they commissioned for the invitations.
Anna wore this beautiful dress from Ted Baker. She looked incredible. Sadly I had to hoof it early, as there was a lot of packing to be done: I’m being picked up at Heathrow to go straight to The Big Feastival in Oxfordshire on Friday evening, as a guest of Boden, so my sister will be bringing along my pre-packed festival supplies in the car. (There’s no point in dragging Hunters, Barbour, flower crowns, fleecy nightie, cowboy boots and the rest to Rio…)