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W


hen I was set this month’s topic, ‘Store Cupboard Suppers’, I initially rejoiced. Another opportunity to practice my


zombie apocalypse survival skills! Awesome! Ten something buckled within me - the realisation that, as a new parent, a zombie apocalypse might not be so awesome anymore. Because as soon as you become a Mum, everything suddenly becomes a question of ‘OH GOD, WHAT WOULD I DO WITH MY BABY IN THAT SITUATION?’


Tis has made watching TV a total nightmare, and I have had to abandon several of my favourites owing to the tough questions they’ve had me asking myself. For example, Te Walking Dead: What if the baby was a zombie? Would I still love it? Obviously breastfeeding would be a bit tricky. Would I be able to run faster with the buggy or the sling? How would we survive without Calpol? Or Game of Trones: What if my son was like Joffrey? How would I stop him from being eaten by a wolf? What if he grew up and wanted to join the Knight’s Watch? And, most disturbingly, One Born Every Minute: Why am I crying at the birth of this horrible couple’s baby when I didn’t cry at my own? (Morphine, I blame the morphine).


Tere’s a reason why stay-at-home parents watch a lot of Homes Under the Hammer.


Whilst a literal zombie apocalypse may no longer be so appealing (you might think that it wasn’t that appealing to start with, but for me the main attraction was largely that I would be able to move into a super-amazing house of my choice and not have to go to work anymore) in a lot of ways, having a baby isn’t entirely dissimilar. To start, there’s the vast range of disgusting substances you find yourself covered in each day - could be dribble, could be sick, just cross your fingers and hope it’s not from the bottom end. Ten there’s my general appearance. After a night of multiple wake-ups, my pale face, uncoordinated shuffle and lack of ability to string a sentence together bears an uncanny resemblance to the undead. And, of course, there is the dependence on a sturdy repertoire of store cupboard dinners, for when the prospect of leaving the house is enough to finish you off.


Having a good stash of dry goods, which can be turned into a passable meal with minimal effort, is of great comfort to me. I like to always keep a good stock of the following:


36 / April 2014/outlineonline.co.uk


pasta, grains and noodles / beans and pulses / oils and vinegars / mustard / tinned fish / flours / stock / a selection of tinned, dried and frozen fruit and veg / emergency tin of beans / soup (for when cooking anything at all is just too much) / biscuits (not technically an ingredient, but essential nonetheless).


Te one foodstuff that can always be relied upon to fill you up and make the best of pre-shop scraps, is the carby joy: pasta. For which, the most notable store cupboard recipe is probably Pasta Puttanesca. Translating as ‘Whore’s Pasta’, it was allegedly a dish that ladies of the night would throw together after a quick bit of rumpy pumpy, to satisfy them and their menfolk. I like to think that this month’s recipe is just as satisfying, with an extra bit of je ne sais quoi - like Julia Roberts, once Richard Gere has sent her out with his credit card - so let’s call it ‘Pretty Woman Pasta’.


Morgan Pickard


INGREDIENTS Serves 2


200g pasta Glug of olive oil


1 tin artichoke hearts 1 tin of tuna in oil


1tbsp capers, chopped


2 cloves garlic, chopped Juice of one lemon


(or a couple of squirts of Jif) Handful of


chopped parsley (optional)


METHOD


Put your pasta on to boil, in a pan of salted water. In another pan, fry the artichokes in a little oil until they become golden (you won’t need to chop them before frying, but give them a bit of a squish with the spoon, so that they break up). Add in the capers and garlic, and fry for another minute or two. Stir in the tuna. Drain the pasta, and add in the artichoke and tuna mix, and the lemon juice. Top with parsley.


Morgan writes her own, hilarious blog on the internet. You can visit it and do a laugh wee wee at sodnigella.blogspot.co.uk


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