Spelling those words since the early 80s / Purveyor of fine lines

I’ve had a busy old life so far: packing quiches in a refrigerated factory in blue plastic shoes, painting theatres at the Edinburgh Festival just so I could get free croissants from a daily breakfast show, photocopying tenancy agreements for Charlie Brooks (Janine from Eastenders), selling books to customers who insist 1984 was written by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and working in publishing for nine years. These days, I slave over a hot desk as an author and freelance copywriter.

Get in touch here to find out all the glorious words I could pour right into your brain.

It's Nice That

Oh Happy Day

The Bloggess

Yoruba Girl Dancing

You Are My Fave

What I'd Wear

I am a Leaf on the Wind

Gravity

Breakfast of Champions

I’m doing this post because I can’t bear to be praised for something and not share it with the world, no matter how pointless and small-time the skill. 

And after that introduction, let me move swiftly to the point: people genuinely seem to like my porridge. A lot. (*pauses for deafening silence*) I find this baffling (if pleasing) because my recipe is so, so, so, so easy. My professional chef brother-in-law has apparently been found furiously trying to recapture the magic of my porridge, and that’s probably the greatest praise I’ll ever receive in my life.

Here it is. 

The ratio of the porridge is 1:1:1, porridge oats, milk, water. I use the cheapest, simplest oats I can find - nothing fancypants - plus milk (whole, obviously - I’m not a monster) and tap water. 

1. Get a mug. Fill the mug with dry oats. Pour them into a pan. 

2. Fill the empty mug with milk. Pour that in with the oats. 

3. (I’m sorry I’m still spelling this out, but just in case.) Fill the empty mug with water. Pour that in with the oats and milk. You now have a clean mug too. You’re welcome. 

4. Cook on a medium heat. I’ve now got gas, which is so much better (by which I mean quicker) but even on an electric hob I could put it on before I showered, and by the time I was pretty much dressed it would be ready for us all. 

5. That’s it. This recipe produces something creamy and just the right consistency. Meddle with it at your peril. I eat it with a dash of cold milk and Maldon salt (Christ, I’m so middle class) or occasionally salt and golden syrup - when the boat is really being pushed out I may have some apple compote. But that’s it. You *can* put it all in a pan and soak it overnight, but that’s up to you. 

Enjoy, mon braves!

  1. sambinnie posted this