The Sunday dinner: Chicken
The price: £16.50
Hello again. I’m back. Just 48 hours later. I’m going to keep to the theme I introduced in the last post and cover fashion, beauty, relationships, travel and food. I enjoy being a jack of all trades and master of none and I think you enjoy it too. Let’s not piss about and get straight on with it. I’d like to spend the evening thinking strategic thoughts, ready for the working week ahead. Or watch The X Factor and drink wine. It’s one or the other.
This time, we’ll begin with relationships, using the songs of Michael Jackson as headings.
RELATIONSHIP ROUND-UP: ‘HEAL THE WORLD’
Mr Jus is an avid Guardian reader who often comments on articles. Does that surprise you? Probably not. But what might surprise you is how today he felt qualified to offer his pearls of wisdom to a middle-aged woman who’d written a letter to Mariella Frostrup’s agony aunt column. A woman whose husband was set to divorce her. She had concerns about what the future might hold. Here’s what Mr Jus had to say:
Hello? What? I didn’t realise I’d shacked up with a tiny, bearded Claire Fucking Rayner. And then I thought about the irony of it all. And then I felt sick because he’d used the word ‘terribly’ and it sounded annoyingly middle-class.
I’m surprised he didn’t recommend that she make a soothing camomile tea and light a £60 Diptyque candle.
Then I felt relieved that he hadn’t written ‘super-strange’ as that would have pushed me over the edge.
Then I experienced amusement at the third line’s bluntness, which I translate into working class northern as: ‘SO SUCK IT THE FUCK UP, LOVE’.
Then I felt annoyed that my boyfriend dishes out relationship advice to strangers, but can’t even be arsed to put the dishes away in this house.
Anyway, Mr Jus says he’s happy to answer any of your relationship queries, so if you’d like to ask him anything, please post your dilemmas. Don’t expect him to be understanding. He’s a bit autistic and stuff.
BEAUTY: ‘THE WAY YOU MAKE ME PEEL’
I’ve been using a tea tree face mask from a boutique beauty outfit, known as Savers. It costs £1. I first had a go at my mum’s when I visited at the end of last month. The same weekend I ruined her leather sofa with the foot peel. This also happened, which I think shows where my frugality, mental illness and thin hair originated from:
- It costs £1, not £38, so what have you got to lose? The answer is £1.
- It gives you the Copydex/well-behaved wallpaper peeling joy. It makes your face tingle as you gingerly pull it away and you can sometimes feel that tingle as far away as clitorally. I’m not exaggerating. Like a hairdresser’s head massage. You know what I mean.
- Two people have said that my skin looks nice. What have I done differently? Use this face mask. That’s what. There are about three or four applications in one sachet. It has a screw top lid. ALL FOR £1.
Final score: 28/33
TRAVEL: A WALK IN THE PARK (can’t be bothered to think of Michael Jackson songs anymore. Forget I said I’d do it.)
Saw Jo Brand walking a small white dog in Dulwich Park today which was my celebrity spotting moment of the week.
Haven’t done much more travelling, to be honest, other than the commute to and from work. Oh, we went for a wander around Hackney yesterday. However, it all got a bit much for Mr Jus by 4.30pm. Here he is, chatting away merrily to me on the train:
FASHION: ‘I BOUGHT A STUPID JUMPER, THAT MR JUS SAID MADE ME LOOK LIKE A NOEL’S HOUSE PARTY AUDIENCE MEMBER AND THAT HE WOULDN’T GO OUT WITH ME IF I WORE. BUT AT LEAST I CAN STAY AWAKE PAST 3PM’ (B-side to Liberian Girl).
Here it is. My sister and I bought the same one after meeting up when I was in Birmingham the other week. We weren’t even drunk.
I thought I could wear it to do my Sunday dinner reviews in, sort of like an official uniform. I don’t really think Sundays aren’t Fundays. They’re quite shit. That’s what I was trying to convey. And I thought I could maybe wear it to work on Mondays, to again subliminally signal that it wasn’t fun. I don’t know. I think I was confused when I bought it. Plus my fat tits have already pulled it out of shape. I won’t wear it again.
Don’t get one is my main message. You’ll look a twat. I did. A twat with glowing skin, that is. Which isn’t the result of the face mask. It’s the Chrome filter, which sadly hasn’t covered up the fact that I could do with a good night’s sleep, mind.
Also, I paid £19.99 in New Look for the stupid thing and they’ve since been reduced to a tenner. Amy will be as livid as I am when she reads this. She’d already mentioned we’d give off these vibes in them:
I was hoping we’d look more like classy versions of Pat Sharpe’s Fun House twins. His surname doesn’t have an E in it, incidentally, but I’ve put one in because of how he’s been treating me.
Final score: 8/33
FOOD: ‘YOU ARE NOT A BONE’
Today we visited The Crown and Greyhound in Dulwich Village. Ripley joined us. She met a pug called Bentley, but had little time for him, showing far more interest in a stray leaf in the hearth.
I don’t blame her – Bentley was a scrounger and a raging bore, not worthy of her time or energy. What was worthy of my time and energy was taking the following photo, which caused me some initial concerns about the venue, for obvious reasons.
- GOOD – speed of service. About five minutes from ordering.
- EVIL – speed of service. Too soon, mate. Let me get a glass of wine down. There’s no rush.
- GOOD – portion size. Plenty on the plate.
- EVIL – the chicken skin was not crisp enough by a long shot.
- GOOD – surprise pig in blanket situation, although he’d have loved fifteen more minutes in the oven. He was as pale as a fucking ghost.
- EVIL – red cabbage. Mr Jus liked it and I’ll admit it was less overpowering than most I’ve encountered, but it tarnishes the gravy with acidity. And if your gravy isn’t strong enough to fight it (it wasn’t) then you’ve lost your audience. Which is me in this instance.
- GOOD – pea presence. A welcome rarity, despite how common peas are in the world.
- EVIL – the roast potatoes should have been left in the oven longer, alongside Casper The Friendly Sausage. They had potential, but that potential had been robbed.
- GOOD – large, robust Yorkshire puddings. Strong work.
- EVIL – too many rosemary stalks knocking about. I kept thinking I was choking on chicken bones. Although you could probably choke on rosemary too.
- NEITHER GOOD OR EVIL – the gravy. It had flavour, it was plentiful, but it was too thin.
- EVIL – Mr Jus kept saying how shit my jumper was and I found it distracting.
- GOOD – Mr Jus ate my leftovers and I’d chewed one of the bits of chicken and then placed it on the plate, because I thought it had a bone in it, but it was just rosemary. So I think he ate my regurgitated stuff, like a baby owl.
- EVIL – the price. It was too expensive for what it was.
So there we have it. It was alright. Mr Jus paid, which softened the blow. I wouldn’t rush back, I’m afraid.
Final score: 23/33