Saturday Night Fakeaway

Look at this beauty. RecipeTin Eats Chicken Shawarma Kebab. Poor Mr G is working every weekend now for the foreseeable, so I thought I would treat him to a fakeaway kebab. Served on The Clay Oven garlic naan bread (from Morrisons - the best prepackaged large naan bread I've tried. Bigger than most but not as thick as usual mass produced ones and don't go dry as they cool down) with salad and extra hot chilli sauce.

I think I could eat this every day. The marinade is so easy, the only faffy bit is threading the meat onto the skewers, but it is so worth it. The closest thing you'll ever get to a chicken kebab takeaway at home. Nagi's email newsletter yesterday had a recipe for a Doner Kebab in it (click here for that recipe). I've tried making the Slimming World friendly ones using a couple of different recipes, but they're drier than a nun's gusset, let's be honest. A kebab is fatty, and if you strip it of its fat by using 5% beef mince, then it's going to taste like dry disappointment, it can't feasibly taste of anything else. I think I might have to try this recipe just once. When we have a cheat day. Maybe on the Sunday night before we go back to Slimming World. However, I think I've retained my Best Wife in the World, Ever crown tonight, apparently it was the best kebab he has ever had, from anywhere. And trust me, this chap has eaten some kebabs in his life.

Yesterday was a shocker. We had the world's longest and most fruitless shopping trip (literally fruitless as well - what kind of supermarket has no bananas? Is there a shortage or something?). Some days I can go and be done in an hour, find everything I need, and get bargains into the equation. And then, some days are like yesterday. Least said the better, especially when I got home and had only done just under 4000 steps. There is no way I did under 4000 steps. That equates to 40 minutes of walking and we were out of the house for about 7 hours (don't ask). My phone tracking app doesn't pick up every step, I have to walk a certain number of steps to trigger it. And of course, unless you're walking constantly and consistently, like I do on the treadmill, the steps don't register. I was fuming. Irrationally fuming, of course, it's a first world problem, but I was in pain and there was no bleeping way I was doing an hour worth of walking on the treadmill. I need a new reliable wristband, like a Fitbit. There was me complaining about the boring day I'd had on Thursday. Never again.

So, instead of doing an hour walking, I ate burger and oven chips, had a pint (Funnel Blower was yesterday's choice) and fell asleep in the chair instead :-)

Then to compound matters, I had a crap night's sleep, I was boiling hot (furry bedding in July, anyone?), Mr G wasn't, so he kept snuggling up to me, like a human, furry burrito. I kept hurling the bedding off us. Then we were synchronised peeing all night (in the loo, not bed). I finally gave up about six o'clock this morning.

Mr G announced on the way home from shopping yesterday that he wants to go camping. Pack up the small tent, single camping stove, couple of camp beds and just go when he finishes work until Friday morning. I'm not quite sure where the three children factor into his plans... but anyway, I can't think of anything worse right now. Don't get me wrong, I love camping, and ordinarily I'd love to go camping. At this time of the year I'm usually chomping at the bit, writing lists, gathering things, pre-cooking food to take, but right now? Nope. Not unless it was just the two of us, in a field, with no other people camping there, a box of wine, a good book (preferably filth), my iPod, a speaker, the Kampa Khazi, a catering pack of bacon, a kebab shop and a chippy within a few minutes drive and maybe a rare Welsh mountain goat or two for ambience. That, I can get behind. Anything else right now is a step too far out of my comfort zone.

Darts semi-finals tonight, Gary Anderson v Michael Smith, and Glen Durrant v Dimitri Van den Bergh. I'm usually crap at predictions, and the entire tournament was a bit of a jaw dropper from the off. But I predict an Anderson/Duzza final, with Anderson the winner. Let's see how wrong I can possibly be.

Usually very :-)