Pet Loves

The Girl celebrated April Fool’s Day a day early, pretending to have a sniffle, then a cough, and then – hilariously – another chest infection requiring further medical intervention and her third bout of disgusting grainy antibiotics in a month.  Oh how we all laughed.  Especially my sister who was tasked with minding her for the weekend.  Oh well. 

Not everyone had a crap weekend however.  The Man and I, for example, had a wonderful couple of days – once the trauma inflicted by No Sleep Whatsoever had lifted somewhat.  We saw dear friends married off, got choked up (as we always do at weddings), became quickly un-choked when the priest wished them “blessed with children”, caught up with old friends, ate and drank, and slept.  And then we slept some more.  And then we had a nap, because all that sleeping wore us out.

The Boy – who didn’t appear to notice my absence, until he saw me again, since when he has whinged nonstop – also had a great time.  And why wouldn’t he - he was treated like royalty. An amnesty was announced on bed-time, vegetables and naughty corners; he was allowed to sleep in (and fall out of) a Big Bed; and best of all, he spent the weekend consorting with animals.  Any time he got tired of clambering on and over the fattest dog in Dublin, he went on a cat-hunt, armed with a shovel, a rolling pin, or a hammer. Once the cat had managed to hide, he then had a huge garden to explore, and yet more dogs (ones that could actually move without heaving and panting and lying down) to chase and torment. And kiss, lick, tug, bark at, nuzzle, and generally love.

And then I dragged him back to London – no wonder he’s whinging - where the closest things to animals he gets is the all-pervasive smell of fox piss in the garden and the occasional pigeon begging for rice-cakes.

Until today, that is.  Reader, without any effort whatsoever, we have acquired pets! Not your conventional pets, admittedly, but the Boy is entranced.  Me – not so much.  Ants aren’t exactly my thing.  And in the kitchen to boot.  But the Boy... You’d swear he had his own petting zoo. He lies – quietly! - watching them scurry back and fro, feeds them bits of bread (and spit), chats to them, strokes them, builds them bridges and caves, rounds them all up into a pen made from crusts, and counts them continuously (“one, twoooo, ther-eee, fo-our, fy-ive, sven, eight, ten, twelf, eighteen!”).  So far I’ve only counted six at any one time, so I’m not too worried about pest control just yet.  (It was sven seven but I inadvertently stepped on one a few minutes ago; as I type the Boy is lying with his nose against it, bellowing “WAKEY WAKEY MR ANT...”) 

Poor Mr Ant.  The good news is that the Dust Buster will finally have a use. Tho’ I spose I could have used it for sucking up all the crumbs and prevented the infestation in the first place.  But then I’d have to entertain the Boy myself, and why do something yourself when you can get an invertebrate to do it for you for free?  

Which leads me to a fantastic recipe I have for deep-fried crickets. Nutritious and crunchy, and cheap.  I know!  Whooda thought. 

Haha, fooled you (only 5 days late). But I do have a nutritious and crunchy and cheap trick up my sleeve, which, luckily, doesn’t involve any of God’s baby creatures, back-boned or otherwise (and is so easy that I'm almost embarrassed to post it).

Goat’s Cheese Tarts (AKA Cheat’s Pizza)

You need (for 4)

• A roll of ready made puff pastry
• A jar of pesto
• Two rounds of firm goats cheese, cut into 6 slices. (Remove the skin from the top and bottom slices)
• Three regular tomatoes, sliced.

Heat oven to 180c / 350f / 4

Unroll pastry.  Decide whether you want several mini tarts or one big one.  Smaller ones look better.

For smaller ones:

If you want to be fancy, get a cereal bowl, invert it on the pastry and cut around it.  Otherwise just cut the pastry into square roughly the same size, each square about half as wide as the width of the pastry. Roll the sides of the pastry in on top of itself to create a lip.  Put the pastry on a greased baking tray.

Spread a generous tablespoon of the pesto onto the middle of the pastry, up to the edge. Lay three (or so) slices of tomatoes on  each disc, interlaced with three slices of cheese. 

For one large one:

Cut out a pastry rectangle as large as you want, and lay on a greased baking tray.  Roll in the sides to create a lip, spread with pesto, and create a single layer, overlapping, of tomato and cheese slices.

Pop in the oven for between 15-20  mins for the smaller ones, and 20-22 mins for the larger one.  Keep an eye on it after 15 mins cos these babies burn quickly.  You want the pastry to be puffed up and browned, and the cheese to be bubbling.

That, my friends, is it.  Nutritious, crunchy, and cheap.  And flakey - which floor-dwelling household pets will appreciate.