L.e.n.t.

So Shrove Tuesday doesn't just mean pancakes to me, although it really is something to get excited about. A whole day celebrating pancakes is pretty special by anyones standards, surely? I'm a bit of a closet Catholic though, and so for me it's also the day before Lent (shudder). Last year I gave up the liquor, surprisingly not too hideous, not compared with chocolate a couple of years before. You forget, that's the thing, and it surreptitiously finds its delicious way into your gob, and bingo. Guilt. Remorse. Bugger.

This year it is was all going swimmingly (albeit the first four days) until I managed to drink a little bit too much red wine with my sister and I conked out snoring in bed before saying my prayers (2012's Lenten resolution). Rats. It's the wine. It always is. It makes me terrible forgetful and lax.

I do think taking things up is proving more difficult than giving them up. I was told recently that if you can do something for thirteen days consecutively, then it becomes a natural addition to your lifestyle and not something that you struggle with so much. I like that. Thirteen days isn't so long. It's rather comforting.

Only forty more days to go.

Shrove Tuesday

Hello again.

Yesterday was one of my absolutely most favourite food days of the year, Shrove Tuesday. One of the very few things that I can cook, and cook exceedingly well I'll have you know, are pancakes. In light of this and the added joy of cooking them on a Rayburn I bought a plethora of goodies to go with, which I proceeded to devour throughout the day. I think the best was supper. I made a savoury bacon and emmental pancake followed by Golden Syrup and lemon ones for pudding. Yup, I take this seriously. Thank you Silver Spoon.

I scoffed away by the roaring fire watching Much Ado About Nothing.

Bliss.

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