Savoury Scones for the Six Nations

One of the very different things about living in Wales as compared to England is the strength of feeling invested in rugby. In England, yeah, plenty of people like rugby, but it's not a patch on the all-consuming, national pride inducing, mass tear provoking, beer fest PASSION that it is here in Wales.

For a start, EVERYONE is involved. I mean everyone. When I went to London on the train last November, everyone between Carmarthen and Cardiff was either going to to the game or talking about the game and using it as an excuse to have a drink at 10.00 a.m. And I mean EVERYONE.

At the start of the Six Nations tournament a couple of weeks ago, the kids came from school engaged in a very serious conversation.

"Did you sing?"

"No".

"I opened my mouth but I didn't sing the words"

What? 

Apparently, the school had assembled to sing the Welsh national anthem in advance of the competition, and specifically the opening match against England. While I haven't asked about this year, I can attest that in their primary school in Hampshire, there was no singing of the English national anthem prior to the Six Nations in the years before we moved.

Despite the grumblings of the Husband, I haven't investigated this further to find out exactly what happened, and much as there's a worrying voice at the back of my mind questioning whether such displays of patriotism are strictly necessary, there's another part of me that admires this devotion to their national sport that the Welsh have. True, I haven't been on the receiving end of this passion in any negative sense (not that I'm aware of anyway - my welsh skills being nascent and distinctly wobbly), and I can see that taken to the extreme, it could lead to all sorts of unpleasantness, but on the whole, the passion seems to be a good natured and healthy love of Wales and the Welsh rugby team. The children do tell me that on the board in school featuring pictures of the different national rugby teams involved in the 6 Nations, the English players do seem particularly Neanderthal-like. Whether those responsible did that on purpose, or whether the English rugby team is simply looking a little Neanderthal these days, I couldn't possibly comment...

Anyway, given this background, you'll appreciate that it's not as surprising as it might otherwise have been to have a baking event themed to the Six Nations. Branching away from cakes (although there will still be clandestine cakes), the Cardigan Bay Bakers has formed to bake beyond the boundaries of a cake tin, and the inaugural meeting had 'Six Nations Savouries' as its theme.

Now, despite having an idea that I'd make 6 kinds of flavoured savoury scone each reflecting a different nation, the reality of doing so was slightly traumatic given that I'd been back in England, in Leeds to be precise, for my school reunion involving 12 hours driving and an extremely late, riotous and thoroughly enjoyable evening on Saturday. Visions of 6 differently and delicately flavoured scones went out of the window when I realised I had hardly any flour in the house, nor much to add to create the '6 nations-ness'. I did have a leek, some parmesan cheese and some cold mashed potato, but such was my panic that I didn't take many pics, preferring to concentrate on actually cooking something.

I made leek & parmesan scones using welsh butter & leeks (doubly appropriate given St David's Day) and also some pesto (Italy again as well as the parmesan) potato (Scotland & Ireland) scones, some to serve with goats cheese (France) and some with smoked salmon (Scotland) which I purchased on my way to the event. So I figure I got most nations covered given that the flour I did have was English, and there's some mustard powder in there. Nothing like being organised, is there?

Leek & Parmesan Scones

makes 10 medium sized scones

1 small leek, trimmed and finely chopped
50g butter
75g plain flour (I ended up using 00 which was all I had)
75g wholemeal self raising flour
1 tsp English mustard powder
a pinch of cayenne
1 tsp baking powder
good pinch of salt
about 80g parmesan finely grated
1 large egg
3-4 tbsp buttermilk

Pre-heat the oven to 200C (Fan) and line a baking tray with greaseproof paper. Make sure you have your biscuit cutter (I used a 6cm one) to hand.

First, melt 12g of the butter in a small pan and sweat the leeks till softened. Don't let them catch. Set aside.

Combine the flours, mustard and cayenne, baking powder and salt in a bowl, then add in the cooked leeks and the grated cheese and stir together.

Combine the egg with 3 tbsps of buttermilk and stir into the dry mixture - add the extra tbsp of buttermilk if you need it to make a soft dough.

Pat out the dough on a floured surface and use a 6 cm cutter to cut out your scones, reshaping the dough if necessary to get more scones. 

Bake for 15-20 mins until browned and ready to eat. Serve with good, salted butter. Preferably Welsh...

Gammon Cawl and Cheesey Garlicky Scones

So those of you who may have become just a teensy weensy bit sick of the photos I keep posting up here of the clear blue skies and sun-kissed beaches of the West Wales coast during what has been, on anyone's view, an absolutely fantastic summer, will be pleased to know that as I write (07:36 on a Sunday morning) the wind that has been howling around the house for the last 36 hours is still doing a good job of trying to blow us off our hill, the rain squalling in torrential downpours. The stormy - and post stormy - skies have their own special appeal, but granted it's not everyone's cup of tea and I haven't exactly welcomed the reappearance of my waterproof trousers into the daily dog walking routine with joy...

The change in the weather is not all bad (honestly!) - it's like that bit that Nigella writes in, Domestic Goddess, when she talks about the Norwegian Cinammon Buns -  "I've always thought that bad weather has its compensations, most of them culinary."This is a view I subscribe to wholeheartedly. While I'm all for tasty salads and delicate desserts in their place, my cooking comfort zone is in soups and casseroles, big dishes of crumble, jugs of custard... Summer and hot weather can be something of a challenge for me in the kitchen, so bizarrely, while I'm (mostly inwardly) weeping at the inability to get the washing dry and gnashing my teeth at having to pull on waterproof trousers and wellies to walk the dog instead of slopping about in flipflops, my kitchen heart sings for joy as I pull out the slow cooker and stock up on bay leaves...

Cawl is very much back on the weekly menu these days. You may remember a couple of months back, I took the opportunity to wax a bit lyrical about how fantastic the kids had been in the immediate aftermath of the move here. Having spent most of the summer term going to a language centre to be taught on an intensive Welsh course, they are now speaking Welsh with what appears to be alarming fluency (especially when they are bickering), and well versed in all manner of Welsh customs, including bursting unprovoked into renditions of Sosban Fach and Ar Hyd y Nos, Blue will be off to the Millenium Stadium to watch his first international rugby match in a few weeks' time wearing a Welsh rugby shirt...

They are loving their school, and the dinners continue to be a big hit. They enjoyed the school dinners at their old school, but they always came home ravenous. Here, though, there are seconds and thirds on offer. It is not unusual for them to refuse the treat that I meet them with from the bus because they are still full from lunch. So my longheld dream of being able to provide an easy tea on school dinner days is realised. And while making scones is not everyone's idea of an 'easy tea', bear in mind that while the kids would be happy with the cawl alone, I also have the Husband (and myself) to feed, and a little fiddling about in the kitchen is actually quite enjoyable, especially when the majority of the meal is in the slow cooker.

Gammon Cawl

500g piece of unsmoked gammon
150g soup mix (dried beans and pulses)
1 large onions
2 carrots
1 leek (it is Wales after all)
1.2 litres vegetable or chicken stock
1 bay leaf
4 cloves

The night before, remove the gammon from the packaging and put in a bowl. Cover with water and leave to soak. Measure the dried beans and pulses into a measuring jug and add 5 times the volume of water. Leave both overnight.

In the morning, get out the slow cooker and heat to high.

Peel and chop the onion and carrots, and wash and slice the leek. Drain the pulses.

Put the chopped veg and the pulses into a pan, add the stock, bring to the bowl and boil rapidly for 10 minutes, scooping off any scum.

Meanwhile, remove the gammon from the soaking water and add to the slow cooker. Once the stock has boiled for the requisite time, pour the contents of the pan over the gammon, chuck in the cloves and bay leaf, pop the lid on and leave till dinner time.

When you're getting close to dinner time, make the scones.

Cheesey Garlicky Scones

100g plain flour
100g spelt flour
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp English mustard powder
1 tsp smoked paprika
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp caster sugar
1 clove of garlic, mashed up
50g unsalted butter diced quite small
150g mature cheddar cheese, diced quite small
1 large egg
4 tbsp low fat natural yoghurt

Preheat the oven to 200C and line a baking tray with greaseproof paper.

Sift the flours, baking powder, mustard powder and smoked paprika into a bowl and combine, then stir in the salt, sugar and garlic.

Add the butter and begin by 'cutting it in' to the flour mix with a knife, then move on to rub the butter in with your fingers till it has almost disappeared.

Stir the cheese through the flour mixture, then whisk together the egg and yoghurt, and combine this with the flour to make a soft dough.

Flour a work surface and your hands, then shape the dough into a rough rectangle/oval (I'm not fussy) about 4 cm thick, then cut into 6 pieces.

Use a palette knife to transfer the scone pieces onto the baking tray and mak sure they have a bit of space between them to expand.

Bake for 25-30 minutes till golden.

While the scones are baking, remove the gammon from the slow cooker to a board or large plate and pull the meat apart using a couple of forks.

 Once shredded, return it to the pot ready to serve.

Serve a steaming bowl of cawl with some cheesey garlicky scones on the side. Rainy day dinner time heaven. 

Enjoy with a side helping of Welsh folk songs. Take it away, Cerys...

Sundried tomato and leek tart - with a little help from Boursin and Lisa Faulkner

Would I like to try some Boursin? But of course I would.

3 great flavours.  - Garlic & herb, black pepper, sun ripened tomato onion & chive.

Garlic & Herb Boursin is definitely a flavour from my childhood. I remember it being in the fridge, reserved mainly for my father. I expect there was an element of  "Too good for us children" going on, so there was a certain amount of excitment that greeted the arrival of this little package of goodies chez Recipe Junkie.
 

Anxious not to deprive my children in the way I was so clearly deprived (oh poor me - not allowed the Boursin), I let them have unfettered access to the Garlic & Herb one lunchtime. This is a decision I will live to regret as they pretty much devoured the lot, leaving the Husband and I barely a look in. Obviously my father was on to something. The black pepper flavour was less popular with the children, well, with Pink, anyway, but I loved it with the Husband's home grown cucumbers. 

I saved the sun-ripened tomato, onion and chive to make a tart inspired by the lovely Lisa Faulkner - there she is with her own pile of Boursin - the lucky thing. Lisa has created some recipes using Boursin, all of which you can find on the website. 

I failed to reproduce her tart exactly, in that I only had a round tin, not a rectangular one, and baby leeks were absent from the purveyors of vegetables I visited on the day I was looking for them. However, this went largely unnoticed, partly because no one knew there were supposed to be baby leeks decorating the top except me and I could live without them, and because stirring half a pack of the Boursin into the usual egg mixture to go in a quiche case over some leeks which I'd genetly softened in some butter, made a very delicious tart indeed, baby leeks or no.

This is what Lisa's version looks like. Alas, I lost my photos in a pre-holiday clear out of the camera.

I also lost the notes I made about what I actually put in my tart, so you can go on your own voyage of Boursin discovery and make it up as you go along, or just make Lisa's.

So thumbs up all round for Boursin in all its flavours and a lovely and straightforward summer supper which everyone enjoyed (even Pink, who is funny about quiche despite loving pastry, and eggs in all other forms, pronounced it delicious and said she would eat quiche like that again).

There are plenty more recipes to choose from too - I'm particularly keen to try the black pepper hotcakes - but this requires the Boursin to stay in the fridge long enough for me to cook with it...

Grana Padano week at L'Anima

Sometimes in life, things happen, and it's tempting to spend valuable time wondering why. Not just bad things, but good things too.

I am so over that. You just have to go with what you get and make the best of it - usually no point dwelling on the whys and wherefores

And I am particularly not going to spend time wondering how on earth I was lucky enough to be invited to spend an afternoon/evening at L'Anima London, in the company of 2 brilliant chefs and a handful of food writers and other bloggers on a gloriously hot Tuesday in July. I'll leave you to ponder that one, as you surely will.

So the occasion was a cookery demonstration in honour of national Grana Padano Week 2013 which runs until tomorrow. The chefs were Francesco Mazzei, of L'Anima itself, and Davide Oldani, of D'O restaurant near Milan, cooking to showcase the 3 ages of Grana Padano cheese.

Francesco and Davide

We crammed into the kitchen, donned aprons and watched as Davide first produced a souffled gnocchi dish of such sublime lightness that I thought I was going to swoon (it was very hot in there and I was standing next to a lit grill). Gorgeous little gnocchi bearing no resemblance whatsoever to my previous attempts. So dainty he piped them into the water...  

The gnocchi were then fried off, and served with a Grana Padano sauce, some raisins soaked in syrup spiked with chilli, some fried lettuce, and some crispy fregola (like couscous). Having allowed us to sample the dish, Davide explained the philosophy behind his cooking which is to satisfy each section of the tongue - the bit which tastes sweet, those tasting salty, bitter etc, hence the dish satisfying all those areas

May from Eat Cook Explore tastes the raisins

Well, I had to take a picture of the cheese!

After a short break for a glass of prosecco (well, it would have been rude not to) and a taste of some delicious grana padano scopped out of a glorious wheel of cheese it was time to move on to Francesco's demo.

I don't think there can be many more divine dishes than the scallops he prepared with a salsa verde made with N'duja, a kind of spreadable salami which I had never heard of or come across before, but was completely heavenly. I have never really aspired to work in a professional kitchen, and the experience didn't change that but what I really appreciated more than ever was how skilled these chefs are at the top of their game. 
Watching Francesco pulping garlic cloves with the blade of a knife, chopping and smoothing, was truly a sight to behold.



I tried to make a note of everything that went in the sauce - garlic, gherkins, capers, anchovies, some bread soaked in white wine vinegar, egg white that had been cooked as an omelette, finely grated grana Padano - may be some marjoram? all chopped so finely, then mixed with some N'duja (that's the bad boy there at the back of this picture - a gorgeous spicy slab of the stuff...)

The scallops - beautiful. fresh, meaty, were pan fried on one side, then the salsa verde was spread over the top and finished off under a grill while Francesco deep fried (flash fried, really) some Senise peppers and sage leaves .

The finishing touches

I cannot tell you how utterly wonderful the dish tasted, and I got to have a second shot at it because it was one of the courses at the dinner that followed. But more about that later.

After the demo, there was time to chat to the other people there, 

drink some more prosecco, and try not to over consume some gorgeous and appropriately cheesey (I mean flavour) nibbles, all made with Grana Padano


Beautiful buns stuffed with Grana Padano and caramelised red onion....

 

Perect pastries filled with Grana Padano and spinach...

...and these heavenly things which came with the rather unheavenly name of 'cheese puffs', but which are so, so much more.

(and if you want the recipe for those, you can find it on Eat Like a Girl, because Niamh has helpfully posted it...)

I think I've probably used up all the superlatives I can think of already in this post. I mean, I know I don't get out much, but this really was an extraordinarily brilliant meal, and others I was with who are better qualified than me to say such things agreed that it was fabulous. From my point of view, it would be definitely in my top 5 meals of all time - a subject we discussed at the table, while we tucked in...

Home cured Hake with candied figs tomato emulsion,

 

Grana Padano Riserva crisps & tarragon 

M'pigliati with Grano Padano Riserva & figs mosto cotto 

The special Grana Padano menu is available at L'Anima until tomorrow (12th July) so if you have a the opportunity to go and experience the 3 ages of Grana Padano cooked this beautifully, grab it while you can. I was lucky enough to dine as a guest of Grana Padano, but I would certainly have paid and have promised my (very foodie) brother that when I bag a regular food column in a national publication, I will take him there for a meal. So there's a challenge for anyone reading...

How now, Laughing Cow? a Review

Don't things always seem so much more glamorous in French? 

I was walking up to school the other day behind someone sporting a shopping bag - one of those sturdy, resuable supermarket ones -  with the motif "L'instant fraicheur" inscribed on it. So much better than "the fresh instant". Or "the instant of freshness". My French isn't bad, and in the past, it's been pretty good, and so I still sometimes decide to think in French, or do some idle translation in my head when the English isn't so appealing (I know, I know, the hours just fly by...).

So here's a thing. Whenever someone says The Laughing Cow to me, I hear "La Vache Qui Rit" - which, if you couldn't guess, is the French name for it. Those cheese triangles were present in the fridge of all the French families I have ever stayed with, and last year on our camper van trip to Normandy, in one of those awesome French hypermarkets, we found a pack of La Vache Qui Rit 'Apero-cubes' - individually wrapped 'aperitif' sized cubes of La Vache, with intriguing flavours - paprika, olive, blue cheese...

Frankly, being the huge francophile that I am, if it's good enough for the French...

I must admit that despite all this, I don't buy it (unless it's packaged in lurid yet strangely irresistible aperitif cube type things), but I was approached recently to see if I would like to review a new flavour of The Laughing Cow cheese triangles. La vache qui rit? Mais oui, bien sur...

Doesn't necessarily sit well with the 'cook it from scratch processed food be damned' image I like to portray. But don't judge me too harshly. You see, the other thing that enticed me was the new flavour - emmenthal.

I love a bit of emmenthal.

I was sold.

Sure enough, carefully packaged in a polystyrene box with its own cool pack, not one but 4 packs of La Vache turned up - 2 of emmenthal and 2 of blue cheese flavour.

We tested them extensively - mostly Blue who has a passion for blue cheese, and ate most of it in his sarnies.

Disappointingly, and as may be you'd guessed, though, they don't really taste of either emmenthal or blue cheese (respectively) although the blue cheese one does have a definite and recognisable tang. Pink wasn't keen on either flavour. Blue was positive, although this waned over time, and the Husband and I, well, if I'm honest, it's just not really our thing. They're not particularly unpleasant or anything, I'd rather just eat proper cheese. The real thing. Le vrai...

On the other hand, if you like Laughing Cow generally, you will probably like these. In their favour, they are only 25 calories a triangle, but don't really taste 'diet' so if you're on something like the 5:2 diet, which I am (currently rather half-heartedly) following, they could be a good thing.You know, spread on a tasty Ryvita or something...

So there you have it. Even as La Vache Qui Rit, I can't give them a rave review. But may be you will? And I'm nothing if not open minded (well, sometimes) so if I've judged them too harshly, do try and persuade me otherwise...

The great big enormous ... PARSNIP!

This could be a post about the hunger gap - that time of the year where we've all but run out of stored food and nothing's growing (I'm talking veg here, not baked beans) yet, or about using up leftovers. It could also be a Samantha Barnes Google Recipe Challenge, and all because of a parsnip.

Despite the hunger gap, the atrociously cold weather and all that, we still have parsnips in the garden. Whether they are actually growing any more is debateable, but when they come out this size, does it really matter?

Anyway, size isn't everything, it's what you do with it. Thanks to the fact that we had people for dinner on Saturday night, I had a fridge full of leftovers looking at me when I opened it up  this evening, Left over bad stuff, like cheese and cream. I may be on a mission to reduce the circumference of my thighs and ensure that the only muffin tops around here are of the double chocolate variety, but I absolutely cannot see food going to waste, so the challenge was on. What to do with the enormous parsnip - and the leftovers?

Pink's not a fan, so parsnips usually get turned into some sort of soup for the Husband and I, or roasted as a side dish, ideal for her to pick out and be sniffy about (she'd refuse the soup point blank). This evening, though, she was out at a friend's so Blue and I got stuck in to some proper parsnip action.

A quick Google based on what I had in the fridge turned up 2 possibles - both gratins - one from Abel & Cole and one from a website called Epicurious - so we combined the two, in doing so using up the left over cream and Cashel Blue cheese from Saturday night, and raiding the garden for the only other things that are growing with any enthusiasm at the moment - sage and rosemary. 

I'm pleased to report that Blue got properly stuck in to the whole thing. Much as he'd hate to admit it, he's a bit lost when his little sister isn't around for hi-jinking or fighting, depending on the mood they are both in (actually, if we're being strictly honest, usually it depends on the mood Pink is in) and so it was good to get him involved while she was off giggling with her friend.

Mezzaluna baby!

 

The result was a delicious creamy (of course) warming dish, full of flavour - great food for a chilly winter Spring evening.

Parsnip & Bacon Gratin with leeks, hazelnuts & blue cheese

Serves 3-4 depending on appetite

60g hazelnuts
700g (peeled weight) parsnips, thinly sliced lengthways
200g (ditto) carrots, also thinly sliced
1 large leek, thinly sliced and washed
200g pancetta/bacon cut into pieces
250ml or so double cream & creme fraiche, thinned with a little milk if necessary
1 good tsp dijon mustard
2-3 sprigs of rosemary, needles only & a handful of sage leaves, finely chopped
80g or so* blue cheese (we had Cashel blue in the fridge), grated
salt & pepper

Pre-heat your oven to 200C

Put the parsnips and carrot into a large pan of salted water. Bring to the boil and cook for 3-4 minutes, then drain and leave to steam dry-ish.

While the veg is cooking, lightly toast the hazelnuts in a small frying pan, then when cool enough to handle roughly chip them and set aside.

Fry the bacon/pancetta till mostly cooked; drain off most of the fat (if a lot has been produced) then add the leek and cook for a few more minutes till the leek is softened.

Whisk together the cream, creme fraiche, mustard and milk if you need it, and then add in the herbs and salt and pepper.

To assemble, first put a layer of parsnip and carrot into your gratin dish, drizzle over about a third of the cream mixture and sprinkle with half the hazelnuts. Spread the leeks and bacon over this, then layer on the rest of the parsnips. Pour over the rest of the cream then sprnkle over the rest of the hazelnuts and the grated cheese.

Bake for 30 minutes of so till the parsnips are cooked, the sauce is bubbling and there's a delicious crunchy topping on your gratin.

If I'd had any salad in the fridge, I think it would have been good with it - something like watercress - but as it was we didn't, so we just ate it as it was. Delicious**.

I'm linking up to this month's Herbs on Saturday hosted by London Busy Body this month for Karen at Lavender & Lovage

 I'm also linking up the March Simple and in Season hosted by Louisa at Chez Foti

___________________________________________________________
* The chunk started off at 80g but Blue is very fond of blue cheese and I didn't keep an eye on how much was being grated and how much was being gobbled...

** I was quite surprised by how much Blue enjoyed this, regardless of the amount of effort he put into making it - those who read this regularly will know that I'm usually gnashing my teeth about how he doesn't like anything 'crunchy' like this gratin topping or the top of a cottage pie, and my efforts to get him to eat less sophisticated things with a cheese sauce - macaroni/cauliflower cheese have met so far with dismal failure. May be his tastes are changing - or may be it was the cream and blue cheese combo. Watch this space.

Mrs W's Pear, Lancashire and Walnut Muffins

For various reasons, of which more another time, I haven't been doing much imaginative cooking or baking recently, apart from my Fairtrade Green Tea, Caradmon & Vanilla Cake yesterday. Still - who needs to when I have friends like Mrs W making the most DELICIOUS muffins. Honestly. She posted the recipe for these babies up on her Facebook and I asked if I could put them up here. 

 
Before I let you read her post, some more about Mrs W. She is down to earth, practical and a great laugh. She is the Senior Scout Wife and I count myself as very lucky to know her: she has saved my sanity on more than one occasion with wise words, and, on even more occasions, with gin.

I think  have long suspected that she is a blogger in the making. And I was not wrong. Here is her post for her gorgeous Pear, Lancashire and Walnut muffins:

"I like to bake, though I’m not quite in Recipe Junkie’s league (it’s always worth volunteering to babysit at the RJ household – just for access to the contents of Grandma’s cake tin) ...and have spawned a daughter who, though I hate to admit it, makes a much better lemon cake than I do... and some great chocolate cookies – which isn’t all bad (apart from my needing to run further) ... but every once in a while inspiration strikes – in this case due to lots of pears in my weekly veg box – and, combined with quite happily playing fast and loose with a recipe, these little marvels were the result.

After staying with my parents in a lovely, lovely B&B in the Lake District, which does the most amazing (you really won’t need lunch) breakfasts, I found they had their favourite muffin recipe on their website  - check it out: Lowthwaite B&B even better, go and stay (but don’t tell everyone or there won’t be space for me) – and I’ve been making these with whatever fruit I need to use up ever since ... and this was my starting point.

They were ok the first time, but too sweet – I’d left in the sugar and hadn’t used enough cheese -  but, I think I have it sorted now, this batch were pretty darn good:

200g plain flour

Going...

2tsp baking powder
1tsp bicarb
good pinch of salt
a good grinding of black pepper
75g melted butter
200ml buttermilk (or half and half milk/natural yoghurt)
1 egg
1 diced ripe pear
75g ish small diced cheese (I used tasty Lancashire - showing my northern roots)
50/75g or so chopped walnuts

Combine dry ingredients in a bowl, mix together the wet ingredients and add to the dry...

Stir until roughly combined then put into muffin tin (I have a silicone muffin mould which is great for these as I don't need paper cases) – makes 12

Baked at 200degC for 20/25mins, or so - your oven may vary - when they should be golden brown and done.

Yum"

going...

So you see - a blogger in the making. I was lucky enough to receive one of these lovely little muffins and boy was it delicious. I think you should too. And leave a comment - we need to get Mrs W into the blogosphere!