Did you know eggs could freeze? I had NO idea. Our fridge, which was kindly bequeathed to us by the parents, and kindly bequeathed to them by some other young independent woman when she upped, got married and left, has this interesting feature: everything freezes. For some reason, no matter how low (or high) one turns the dial, or how much one puts IN it, stuff freezes. So, on Monday morning we found our eggs with vertical cracks and well frozen solid. I made fried eggs on Monday by mashing an egg-shaped crystalline lump of eggwhite and then yolk. The Roommate was much amused.

Which brings me to a poll: The Roommate, in her infinite ignorance, claims that one must put the weight on the cooker from the first minute, not realising that doing so traps air inside WHICH can lead the cooker to explode. In her deprived life she has only used Hawkins don’t-remove-the-weight type cookers, obviously, or she would know this simple fact about Prestige cookers. Anyway, the question I have is this: How many of you, my readers, all three of you, use Prestige cookers, and if so do you put the weight on first?

I had my first dinner party last night! It was Colombian in guests, raucous in nature and led to severe food comas in two of the visitors. Quite the success methinks. Conversation was varied, though it displayed a distressing tendency to veer towards the scatological. We did, however, discuss the elephanting of Ganesha, so it wasn’t ALL sex and poo. Lovely, in short.

I have discovered that I manage to invent food as I cook it. It’s quite a revelation, since I have managed to invent fairly nice versions of food I have never eaten, or atleast not liked the few times I have eaten it. Palak dal. Then the egg curry from last night. We do however have a problem, since The Roommate is obsessed, as are many foolish people who wish to annhilate their tastebuds, with madly chilly-filled food, and I cannot eat chillies in my food. So I’ve been putting in as much as I can handle, but then it’s not enough for her and it’s too much for me, and neither of us enjoys it! A solution must be found!

I think I am designed to be a housewife. Seriously! I have been so thrilled with cleaning, grocery shopping, cooking, making sure The Roommate gets off to work with her lunch packed and so on that it leaves me facing the fact that I LOVE BEING A MOMMY. The downside of course is that The Roommate, who leaves the house to go to work, gets heavy princess treatment, and one of these days I’m going to be mad and leave her a note saying “There’s not fairy in the kitchen who does the dishes you know…” Her response, she says, will be “Really? I had no idea! Ok, you look after the house while I go off to find one.”