In my life, I've done things I'm ashamed of. I've done things other people think I should be ashamed of, but I'm not. I've done things other people think I should be ashamed of, but instead I'm proud of.
But the lowest ebb, the pit from which all my shame arises, the reason my head hangs low, and I can't face the rest of humanity is frigging fish cakes! I love a good fish cake, but I just can't cook them. I have tried a zillion times. They taste fine, but look like the droppings of some so-far unidentified ruminant. When it didn't feel well.
Tonight, probably unwisely, I rethought fish cakes. Every recipe tells me to dip in flour, coat in egg and then breadcrumbs. I don't want an egg sandwich! So I decided to oven bake them without all that palaver.
I found a recipe which gave me the ideal (according to them) temperature and timing. The timing confused me. "They take at least 30 minutes to cook", they solemnly declared.
"30 minutes to cook already cooked potato and already cooked fish?
But, I bashed on, mixed my fish with riced potatoes, chilli and mint, (was right out of coriander leaf), formed cakes and bunged them in the fridge for maybe 20 minutes, then into the oven.
After the recommended timing and temperature, two had collapsed into unattractive objects reminiscent of things you avoid while walking in pasture land; two were just presentable; and one had somehow been sacrificed to the god of fish cakes. I swear I put 5 in there!
Anyway, as usual, they all tasted fine - even the landfill first two. I hope whoever ate No 5 was happy.
So no images tonight. Even my camera was too ashamed to record them.
But here is one of the chillies I used. It is from my balcony but can't decide if it's red or green.
