Tag: Cooking

Guest Post: 7 Reasons You’ll Put Weight On This Winter

As we head into winter, you’re probably dreading the added expense of Christmas and New Year. Our wallets are already stretched to breaking point, with families up and down the land having to make cut-backs here, there and everywhere, so the last thing we need is another visit from Rudolph and co.

That said, although you may be worrying about whether Santa will survive on the less-than-luxury mince pies you leave him at the foot of your chimney, you should probably be worrying about your waistline too. Why? Because winter is when many of us let ourselves go.

So, if you don’t want to enter 2013 looking like you do on the back of a dessert spoon, watch what you eat. Otherwise you might find yourself adhering to all seven of these reasons why you’ll put on more weight.

1. Cold weather. As winter is the coldest season of the year it’s pretty much a given that people are less active. Gone are the early morning walks with the dog, the sunset jogs around the block and the weekend cycles in the countryside. In comes the staying indoors, the radiators turned up and rubbish on the TV. Out goes the range cookers and the hearty filling food, in comes the takeaways and the microwave meals….

2. Wet weather. The winter brings with it wet weather too. If it’s wet you’re less likely to want to walk, cycle or snake-board to work, turning to your car instead. Understandably too. Why turn up to work like a drowned rat, when you can get there in the warm and relative comfort of your own pride and joy? The thing is, though, while it may be convenient, not only will your travel expenses rise, so will the size of your trousers.

3. Less light. With the clocks going back the nights get longer. You end up going to work in the dark, and coming home in the dark. As such, many of us start to ‘hibernate’, with our body clocks thinking it’s time to shut down for the evening. “Shall I go to the gym?” you ask yourself. “Nahhhh. I’ll go home to the warm, thanks.” Less daylight and longer nights reduce your desire to keep active, leading to a night in front of the tellybox, rather than the exercise mat. Unless you’re watching Aerobics Oz Style on Sky Sports 2 of course.

4. Winter blues. Talk to any sufferer of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) and they will tell you the same thing, as soon as the clocks go back their mood suffers horribly. They rue the loss of summer and dread the cold winter months. They get depressed, they get down and they miss the sun. They crave sweet and carb-heavy foods to keep up their energy and spirits. If that sounds familiar, watch the scales go up.

5. Seasonal food. Christmas is coming earlier and earlier nowadays. In fact, it was August this year when we first started noticing festive fare on the shelves. Mince pies, Christmas puddings, Twiglets, nuts, selection boxes, advent calendas… you could actually buy them IN AUGUST this year. Surely a new record? If you’re tempted by these offers (£5 for a tub of Celebrations for example), then just think to yourself, “I’m going to get fat!” That should stop you. Unless you say it with pride and conviction, in which case no one can help you.

6. Seasonal drink. Now this one is a sore point for many of us. Supermarkets up and down the land know that us Brits love a drink. We do. We can’t get by without the odd glass of wine now and again. But with Christmas coming, it’s fair game. “A bottle of Baileys for £12, when the normal RRP is £20? I’m there!” But so are those pesky little calories. If you don’t want to slam on the festive flab, then try and avoid these festive drink offers. Or use a straw. You’ll probably feel better that way.

7. Office treats. No matter how hard you try to stay cheery in the winter months, whether that’s keeping up your exercise routine, going for walks or constructing a stationary tower out of paper clips, you can bet your bottom dollar/pound that your workmates won’t be as committed as you. As a result, before you know it, the office will be inundated with sugary treats to help celebrate…erm… nothing in particular. So, if you don’t want to see your scales creak under the weight of all that office joviality, the trick is to learn to say no. Good luck.

October 30, 2012
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Why Working From Home Is Good

Truth be told many of us hate the demoralising Monday morning alarm and rush to the office only to be greeted by a desk of paperwork and your evil boss. The 9-5 grind can get the better of even the most workaholic individual, so why not bite the bullet, clear up your office desk and work from home? Here are seven reasons why running a home-based business can be the best decision you will ever make.

If Delia Smith can make a mint working from home, why can’t you?

1. Dress code. T-shirt, pyjamas or even your birthday suit, working from home can let you dress as you like without comments from HR and management regarding corporate dress code policy. This has many benefits, but few are better than the satisfaction of rolling out of bed in your Superman PJs straight into the office. Ultimate efficiency. No time wasted.

2. Your office is your castle. Working from home enables you the privilege of designing your very own office sanctuary. Comfortable and productive, the days of sitting on uncomfortable office furniture, at bland generic desks, will soon become a thing of the past. Just imagine the possibilities of creating a completely unique work station with a range of beautiful furniture and accessories.

3. Stationary won’t grow legs. There is nothing more annoying than every piece of office stationary you buy disappearing. Communal offices provide a perfect environment for stationary evolution; where, in a matter of minutes, single cell biros can develop the ability of movement and walk off without warning. With the correct furniture and storage space in your home you will be able to keep all of your stationary essentials safe. And threaten any want-away with the staple gun.

4. Home Cooking. Nothing beats a hearty home-cooked meal. Working from home will enable you to eat what you want, when you want. No more boring, bland packed lunches or overpriced vending machines. If you are lucky you could even have your partner or parent cook the food for you, letting you fight the hunger pains without sacrificing levels of productivity/looking on YouTube.

5. Flexible Hours. Getting up early on those cold winter mornings isn’t for everyone. Well, when working from home there would be no need to chuck the alarm clock at the wall anymore. You will have the freedom of a butterfly in a country meadow. However, it still requires a bit of discipline as you will still have to work in line with your client’s expectations. Breakfast meetings they might be happy with, bed and breakfast meetings… not so much.

6. Daytime TV. Working from home will introduce you to the wonderful world of daytime TV. Why not work away listening to the tranquil background noise courtesy of your country’s finest individuals on the Jeremy Kyle Show? If nothing else, it’ll make sure you work you backside off so you don’t end up on the programme too.

7. Save money & save the environment. Nothing raises blood pressure more than rush hour traffic. No longer will you have to contend with grid-locked roads, full of workers desperate to get home at the end of the day. This, in turn, will help you save money, which would normally be spent on fuel and also save the environment by reducing your carbon footprint. In other words you can add the title ‘Eco-Warrior’ to your ever-expanding CV. Take that BP!*

*Other oil companies are available.

Author Bio: Chris is a recent University Marketing graduate and keen sportsman (armchair sports fan). He is currently writing on behalf of thefurnituremarket.co.uk.

October 28, 2012
7 Reasons We Were Unlucky To Miss Out On A Scout Birthday Badge
Yesterday the Scouts celebrated their 104th birthday. Quite an accomplishment from an association that has a maximum age limit of 25. As part of the celebrations they handed out big birthday badges to a number of celebrities. Celebrities who have – apparently – inspired youngsters. For example, James May received the ‘navigation’ badge for driving all over the country using his sat-nav. And Stephen Fry earned himself the ‘IT’ badge for being on Twitter. Worthy winners I think we can all agree. In total, fourteen badges were handed to fifteen celebrities (Sue Perkins and Giles Coren had to share the ‘smallholder’ badge). However, there was an alarming omission. There was no mention of 7 Reasons. Which is a shocking oversight when you consider the number of people we have inspired in true Scout fashion. And I say true Scout fashion because of course there are seven Scout Laws:
1. A Scout is to be trusted.
2. A Scout is loyal.
3. A Scout is friendly and considerate.
4. A Scout belongs to the worldwide family of Scouts.
5. A Scout has courage in all difficulties.
6. A Scout makes good use of time and is careful of possessions and property.
7. A Scout has self-respect and respect for others.
This then, is why we should have been rewarded:

1. Trust. Ask yourselves a question. Ideally this one. Can you trust 7 Reasons? Of course you can. When we highlighted the dangers of a dating a polar bear or riding a crocodile, were we telling the truth? Yes. When we told you not to hold a conversation in the men’s toilets or not to dream about Andy Murray’s mother, was this sound advice? Yes. It strikes us that when it comes to honesty, we lead the way every single day.

2. Loyalty. We are fiercely proud of our roots. Our British roots. Which is why we uphold all that is good about this country. It is why we dislike France and urge you to invade at your soonest convenience. It’s why… actually, that’s pretty much it really. But it’s enough. We don’t like the French. And this isn’t because we’re xenophobic (at least not both of us), it’s because we are loyal to Nelson and Wellington and everyone else who had the joy of fighting the frogs. Invade the garlic-eating, beret-wearing, onions-around-their-neck-cycling, Francs today!

3. Friendliness And Consideration. Like I say, we love everyone.

4. Family. Our audience is our family. But we don’t need to tell you that. The amount of you we let sit on the 7 Reasons sofa is testament to how much we care about you. How much we cherish you. How much we love you and need you and want you. It’s why everything we do is for you. We cater for every aspect of your life. Let’s take one example. Cooking. Ignoring previous accusations that one of us once gave our housemate food poisoning, 7 Reasons has lead the way on bringing culinary delights to your home. We single-handily made SPAM fashionable again. For you. We advised you not to fall victim to the verbal row ignitor that is M&S’ ‘Dine in for £10’ deal. We told you to make a pizza. We told you never, ever, ever to host a dinner party. All wise words and all words that the majority of people immediately adhered to. So why were we overlooked I wonder?

5. Courage. One criticism often levied at us is that we don’t do our research. That we just write without thinking of the consequences. Nothing, it must be stressed, can be further from the truth. Each piece is painstakingly researched. Which is why we post things about wrapping up presents after the event, not before. It’s why we kayak the Pacific and then tell you not to do it. It’s why we listen to stuff by Owl City and then advise you against it. It’s why Marc goes to prison for a while and then tells you not to have sex with a penguin. All this takes a huge amount of bravery on our part and it’s a crushing blow when people just assume you wrote this while sitting on the sofa watching cricket.

6. Time Efficiency. One of 7 Reasons’ finest accomplishments is that we always adhere to our promise of posting on or before 9am each day. Today, for instance, I am posting well ahead of 9am EST. And on Monday Marc posted well before 9am BST. On Tuesday.

7. Respect. As I’ve said, we love everyone. But not quite as much as we love ourselves. And don’t for one minute think I love myself while Marc spends all day bemoaning his life. Only one of us wears the moisturiser around here and my rough, flaking, peeling skin says it isn’t me.
August 2, 2011
It’s That SPAM Again

It’s Sunday today, so we’ve taken our traditional day away from the reasoning-mine and, as they are often wont to do, our thoughts have turned to food. Now, some time back we brought you what we considered to be the ultimate SPAM recipe – Planked SPAM – but now we’ve unearthed something that has easily trumped Planked SPAM and knocked it into a cocked hat. Whatever that means. Brace yourself! It’s…

Yes, it’s SPAM ‘n’ Beans which is, apparently, exactly right for Saturday night (which is rather a shame as I took my wife for cocktails and to a really good concert in Northern Europe’s largest Gothic Cathedral last night (if only I’d seen this first)). It seems delightfully simple to cook, consisting as it does of two ingredients; SPAM and baked beans. Simply place slices of SPAM in baked beans and cook them on the hob, then serve in some sort of dirty brown pot with congealed sauce oozing over the side. Who wouldn’t be overjoyed to be served this? It seems that the simplest recipes are often the most delicious.*

*Sadly I’m the member of the 7 Reasons team that doesn’t eat meat and – as SPAM is a distant relative of meat – I can’t try it myself. Any readers care to give it a go?**

**7 Reasons will be back tomorrow, without any tummy trouble whatsoever.

May 8, 2011
Russian Roulette Sunday: It’s Cake!
Hello 7 Reasons readers! It’s Marc here and today, dear readers, we would like you to make a cake. This cake.

It’s Oxfam’s Easy Lime and Ginger Cheesecake, the recipe for which comes from my local Oxfam Bookshop’s brilliant blog . The recipe calls for the use of Fairtrade Stem Ginger Cookies and, when you go to your nearest Oxfam shop to buy them, you’ll be giving money to a worthwhile cause. That’s right readers, by making and eating an ethically sourced cheesecake (unless you buy mascarpone sourced from warmongering cheesemongers) you’ll be helping a good cause in an ethical way. In fact, if we can all make and eat enough cheesecake, we can probably save the world, and I’ll be trying very hard. Here’s the achingly simple recipe as published by Oxfam Books, Petergate York:

Easy Lime and Ginger Cheesecake
- Serves 4
- Prep time: 15 min
- Chilling time: 30 min
- Basically, in 45 minutes you’re in business.
Ingredients
- 200g pack of Fairtrade stem ginger cookies, crushed
- 50g butter, melted
- 500g mascarpone cheese (they usually come in 250g tubs, so get two of these)
- 40g icing sugar, sifted
- Finely grated zest and juice of two limes
Method

1. Mix together the crushed biscuits and melted butter (I also like to add a bit of sugar to my cheesecake bases to make them a bit jazzier) and press into the bottom of an 18cm (7inch) spring-sided or loose-bottomed cake tin.

2. Place the mascarpone cheese, icing sugar, lime zest and juice in a bowl and beat together. Spread this mixture over the biscuit base.

3. Put it in the fridge and chill for 30 min! That’s really it.

That’s the entire recipe. It’s basically spreading cheese on biscuits and it’s so simple that absolutelyanyone should be able to make it. And now we’re going to demonstrate that even people with no food preparation skills, knowledge or aptitude can follow this recipe. I’m going to hand you over to my writing partner: A man whose culinary education began and ended with learning how to boil water for tea: A man who – before he moved to Kent – was known as The Fulham Poisoner: A man whose litany of culinary disasters includes failing at defrosting a chicken and the hospitalisation of a flatmate*. He’s going to make a cheesecake himself and feed it to his fiancé Claire – a renowned and accomplished maker of cakes – who will judge it on appearance, texture and taste (should she survive). Here’s Jon.

“It was only when I was standing in the queue that I realised I had been well and truly duped. The idea of making a cheesecake and then eating it had originally sounded like a good idea, which is why I had agreed. Marc had, after all, said all it required was a spare half hour. In my book, that’s a fair exchange for cake. But as I stood there I realised it had already been twenty-five since I had left home and I hadn’t even purchased the ingredients. There was no way I could make a cheesecake in five minutes. Not there. And then I got to the till. Which is when I realised this idea was also going to cost me money. Just short of £5 in fact. That’s a lot to spend just to have something to write about. I couldn’t help but think if I had managed the past year and a half writing without having to pay for the privilege, why did this have to change? I trudged home.

Having spread the ingredients in front of me and read the recipe, I realised this was the exact same cheesecake that Claire makes. And she makes it very well. Brilliant. So I’ve had to walk all the way the shops, spend the best part of a fiver on ingredients and now I am challenging my future wife by making one of her specialities. Perturbed, I carried on. Twenty minutes later I was left staring at the following creation:

Making it was something of a doddle. What was not a doddle was the washing up. I don’t know how often you zest a lime, but cleaning the zesting part of the grater is quite possibly a harder job than watching England play cricket. Still, an hour later I was done. I also had lime poisoning from licking the bowl.

The next part of this project – and that is very much what it had become – was to get Claire to profer her opinion. These are the results of the Claire survey.

On Appearance: “That looks nice.”

On Texture: “It’s nice.”

On Taste: “That was very nice”.

So there we have it. I make nice cheesecakes. I am sure your Sunday just got a whole lot better with that news.”

*Which he denies.**

**Falsely.

***As Oxfam Books, Petergate York would (and actually did) tell you themselves, remember the whole point of this recipe is that it is a Fairtrade recipe. So help the global community during this Fairtrade Fortnight (and after) by buying Fairtrade goods as much as you can.
March 6, 2011
7 Reasons The Protection Of The Cornish Pasty Is A Jolly Good Show

You’d be forgiven for missing this news, but yesterday the Cornish Pasty was awarded protected status by the European Commission. Or at least the term ‘Cornish Pasty’ has. It now means that a Cornish Pasty can only be called a Cornish Pasty if it has been prepared in Cornwall. So what? I’ll tell you what. With the help of the tried and tested 7 Reasons formula, here are seven reasons why this is brilliant news all round.

1. Employment. A) All Cornish Pasties will now be stamped with a Protected Geographical Identification logo. That’s a job for someone. B) All those who sell fake Cornish Pasties will have to hire designers to redo their menus and, in the case of ‘Glasgow Cornish Pasties’, their whole identity. C) Those who fail to adhere to the new legislation will be sued. This means more jobs for lawyers.

2. Tourism. I don’t have the facts to hand, but I reckon more pasties are sold each year at train stations across the country than actually in Cornwall. Or at least they were. That now will change. Instead of grabbing your pasty from London Paddington, you’ll actually have to get on the train and head down to the South West. And while you are there you may as well check out Tintagel and the Beast Of Bodmin Moor.

3. Pasty Wars. That pasty manufacturer in King’s Lynn who has been selling bogus Cornish Pasties since 1997 now has a wonderful opportunity. And that opportunity is to create the Norfolk Pasty. Come November we are going to see a pasty price war.

4. The CPA. That’s the Cornish Pasty Association to you and me. After nine years of trying, they have finally done it. They have protected the pasty. Congratulations guys! Have a pint and pie on me.

5. When is a Cornish Pasty not a Cornish Pasty? When it’s not made in Cornwall! At long, long last I can use this joke and people will laugh. They just didn’t get it before.

6. Clarification. You know when you go into your local pub and order a coke and the barman says they’ve only got Pepsi and you say that’s fine? Well, the same thing will now have to happen with pasties. You go into a restaurant and order a Cornish Pasty. Instead of making a note of your order the waiter will now be required to say, ‘It’s a Brighton Pasty, is that okay?’ At which point you get up and leave.

7. Pedants. I expect most of them had a party last night. In fact, I know we did. We can hardly wait to get out there and correct people who order a Cornish Pasty. ‘Actually, it’s only a Cornish Pasty if it has been prepared in Cornwall.’ It’ll fit very nicely alongside my, ‘Holland is not bloody a country! The country is called the Netherlands. Holland is made up of the North Holland and South Holland provinces only.’

February 23, 2011
Russian Roulette Sunday: A Recipe

Hi, Marc here. It’s Sunday and half of the 7 Reasons team is unwell. Sadly, its the half that’s writing today’s post; so I’m sorry if you’ve been clicking refresh on the homepage for the last few hours waiting expectantly for this to appear. Anyway, here it is.

A glass of mulled wine contains several of your five a day. Probably.

We’ve brought you recipes before of course. I’ve given you a recipe for SPAM on a plank, and Jon’s shown you how to remove something from the freezer. Badly. But it occurred to me that we’ve never given you a recipe for something you might conceivably like to consume. And it’s the time of year for it, so here’s my epic recipe for mulled wine that I’ve been inflicting on house-guests every winter since…well…before we had a house. Or guests. Anyway, here are the ingredients that you will need:

2 Bottles of red wine: It doesn’t matter how many people that you are going to give mulled wine too, the correct quantity is always two bottles. Don’t just use the cheapest wine that you can find as, if you do, your mulled-wine will be mulled-cheap-wine, and no one will like it. You don’t need to spend very much though, an inexpensive Aussie Shiraz-Cabernet will have enough strong fruit notes and body to support the ingredients, or a cheap Tempranillo. Just don’t use anything too light of body like a Pinot Noir or a Beaujolais, as it will be overpowered by the other ingredients.

2 Lemons (quartered).

2 Oranges (quartered).

4 Cloves.

5 Tablespoons of honey.

1 Cinnamon stick.

2 Teaspoons of ground ginger.

Put all of the ingredients into a pan. Put the pan on the hob. Turn the hob on (to a low heat). Stir constantly until the mulled-wine is near boiling point but importantly DO NOT LET THE MULLED-WINE BOIL! When it boils the alcohol escapes, and you need that in order to suffer your house-guests, (or they will need it to suffer you, in my case). While it is warming, taste frequently and add any random thing you can think of to improve the flavour. Last New Year’s Eve, I added a quartered and squeezed satsuma, half a cup of brandy, half a cup of triple sec, a big splash of orange juice and a tsunami of dark rum*. All of these things work very well in it. When everything’s in and it’s near boiling point turn the hob off and ladle your mulled-wine into cups, mugs or glasses (glasses without handles will be too hot to hold so only give those to guests you dislike). You may then drink the mulled-wine. And as you’re the person that made the delicious, warming, tasty beverage that they enjoyed so, everyone will briefly love you and will happily tolerate you for the remainder of the evening.

Right, I’m off to mull my way back to health. 7 Reasons will be back tomorrow with seven reasons…for something.

*Several hours after drinking this mulled-wine when we were cracking open the Champagne, we all realised that we were really quite drunk, and were surprised because we’d only consumed a bit of mulled-wine and three or four beers over the course of the evening. I think I’ve just solved the mystery.

December 19, 2010
7 Reasons I Should Have Made My Omelette First

Yesterday I made an omelette. Two in fact. While I don’t except any congratulations for this – I have, after all, done the same many times before – I am not averse to receiving any adulation you wish to bestow. That said, given the state of the second omelette – the one I had – you may find it more fitting to belittle and mock. I won’t hold it against you if this is your choice. I am, however, going to explain why the second omelette was such a disaster. There are – as I am sure you would expect – mitigating circumstances surrounding the event. Probably seven.

1. Rushing. I don’t know whether you have ever made two omelettes before, I suspect you are not as maverick as I and as such have not. Let me tell you now though, it is not as easy as it sounds. Unless you are a greedy bugger – or hungry – the chances are you are making two omelettes because there are two people wishing to have one. This was the case last night. I wanted one. My girlfriend agreed that she would have one. Being nice and not wishing to relinquish control of the frying pan, I made my girlfriend her omelette first. But then I wanted to eat mine with her. (I have long suspected we are the last two romantics in the Maidstone catchment area.) As a result I rushed the manufacture of my omelette. And as I am sure you are aware, a premature omelette is not an omelette at all. It’s a mess.

2. The Difficult Second Omelette. We have all heard of the phrase, ‘the difficult second album’. Apart from maybe Oasis. And Toploader. Though admittedly Toploader struggled with their first album too so maybe that doesn’t count. Anyway, I digress. My point is that the pressure was on and, instead of just concentrating on making the second omelette the best it could be, I tried to make it as good as the first omelette. As soon as I did that I was in competition with myself. And I cracked under the strain.

3. Whisking. The trick with making a good omelette mixture is not too whisk it too much. I forgot that it had been whisked before the making of omelette number one. So I whisked before construction of number two. The result was too light and runny. As a result I got air pockets under my omelette. I was trying to salvage the mission from that point on. And that is not an environment conducive to success.

4. Mixture Fail. There is also another reason omelette one was more a success. There was enough mixture to comfortably fill the frying pan. When it came to the second effort, there wasn’t. I’ll be honest. I was stretching the credibility of myself as an omelette maker here. Without enough mixture I added a little milk straight into the frying pan. That was stupid. The frying pan spat it back at me.

5. Tosser. To toss or not to toss? This question is widely debated in omelette making circles. I adhere to the point of view that – before filling is added – the omelette should be tossed. Yesterday, I tossed one of the omelettes and didn’t the other. I’ll let you guess which is which.

6. Filling. We have a rule in our house. As I am the man, I have more food. I like this rule and I didn’t even think of it. So when it came to filling the omelettes, I made sure there was more filling for me. Unfortunately, the amount of filling was calculated on how big the omelette would be. As my omelette was 80% of it’s intended size I really should have put 80% of the filling inside. But I didn’t. I’m a man. So I put it all in. And then I tried to fold the omelette in half. And that is when it snapped at the seams.

7. Manoeuvring. Taking the omelette from pan to plate should be a simple process. Assuming you have actually made an omelette it is possible to tilt the pan and watch the omelette slide into position. Which is what happened with omelette one. Omelette two though wasn’t an omelette. It was a mess. And the mess containing cheese which was now sticking to the pan. I had no option but to shovel it out. And that’s what I did.

November 12, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: A Recipe

It’s Russian Roulette Sunday again (and ordinary Sunday too) and we’ve realised something: We’ve never given our readers a recipe before. We’ve requested them when under pressure; we’ve offered general lifestyle advice on how to do food correctly; and on how food should be consumed, but we’ve never been specific about how to prepare it. Until now.

This isn’t our own recipe, it’s one that we stumbled across on the internet while doing something else. But it’s safe to say that we were amazed by it. Flabbergasted. Dumbfounded. It’s a perfectly genuine recipe that features in an advert for the main ingredient and we haven’t in any way made it up.

In the past, we may have created and altered posters and passed them off as genuine, but we did that because we didn’t think that anyone would believe us, and we certainly didn’t imagine that thousands of people around the world would download those posters, presumably to use in essays and school projects. In fact, we feel fairly confident that, as World War II recedes further into history, and internet content becomes ever-more readily-accepted, those posters will come to be seen as genuine, and we – in our usual hapless manner – will have inadvertently caused a revision of history. We’re actually dreading the day that one of our posters turns up in a newspaper, or a book. Anyway, we’ve learned our lesson, and this poster is categorically not one of our creations.

You’re probably feeling a little peckish by now so, Ladies and Gentlemen, discerning readers of 7 Reasons (.org), we present to you, without any further ado…Planked SPAM.

Now, to some people, a meal consisting of SPAM on a plank might seem a little unconventional or unappetising, but rest assured: When you unveil this culinary master-stroke with a flourish, it will be “…greeted with cheers” by your jubilant dinner-guests. The advert says so, so it must be true. We’re not sure what wood the plank should be made from, though pine would probably be nice and fragrant, and less tough than oak. But you can experiment with your own planks, we wouldn’t want to ruin the fun. Let us know how you get on.

September 26, 2010
7 Reasons Not to Have a Dinner Party

1. The bad-egg. At any dinner party, at least one person will behave badly and annoy all of the other guests. It’s always a man. Often it’s me.

2. Multi-tasking. Women can multi-task – they demonstrate this by talking during films. This means that they approach both hosting and cooking for a dinner party with confidence, which makes it all the more tragic when your tearful hostess returns from the kitchen bearing a foul-smelling tray containing something black (possibly the charred remains of a flan) and a bowl of something green and unidentifiable (no idea). If you want to see a grown-woman cry, you don’t have to go to a dinner party. You can just hide her chocolate – which is a lot easier.

3. Candles. There are always candles on the table at dinner parties but no one knows why. I don’t want to singe my arm hair every time I pour some wine or pass the salt. Why would you want to put a fire on the table?

4. Wine. Guests always bring wine with them, and it’s always the wrong one – a Barolo when the main course is a delicate fish dish, or a New Zealand sauvignon blanc to go with lamb. Why can’t guests just do something useful and bring dessert with them? Or not come?

5. Cheesecake. A plain, unadorned cheesecake is one of the best desserts ever. I don’t want cheesecake made with Baileys, I don’t want cheesecake made with fruit, nor do I want cheesecake made with chocolate. What I would like is cheesecake made with cheese. And cake. Don’t tell me that I’m getting a cheesecake for dessert and then bring me something made with gooseberries and covered in sauce! Why can no one hosting a dinner party resist cocking up a cheesecake? Is it the law?

6. Children. I was brought up in a house that often hosted dinner parties – at least one a month – but I don’t think that my siblings or I even caught sight of one until we were eighteen years old. No one has ever successfully explained why children are banished from dinner parties to me. Is it because of the candles?

7. Restaurants. There are places where a group of people can sit around a table and eat wonderful food – made to a higher standard than they could manage themselves – they’re called restaurants. The diners don’t have to get up to fetch courses, drinks or cutlery and they don’t end up with candle-wax on their carpet. You can choose what you want to eat and drink rather than have your courses compromised by your friends bizarre and varied dietary requirements, children don’t have to be hidden – they can be taken with you or looked after by a babysitter – and you don’t have to wash-up afterwards. I sincerely hope they catch on.

March 15, 2010