It was a dark and stormy night. A shot rang out.
Oh, hang on. It was morning. Definitely dark and stormy, though.
And, to be picky, a shot never rang out. A sock was thrown, actually. At the cat.
The Wikipedia entry on the Burmese cat states that they are “persistently vocal“, which is a polite way of saying that they are incapable of being quiet for more than 42 seconds at a time, which drops to 7½ seconds when food is involved.
The same article goes on to say that they have “soft, sweet voices“. Let me assure you, when you have an angry, hungry, Burmese sat on your head and yowling in your ear at 6am, “soft” and “sweet” are not the terms that spring immediately to mind.
So, there I was, up early, again, thanks to the cat, again, with what seemed to be the same awful weather raging away outside, but now with extra added blusteryness. I still hadn’t quite wrapped my head around the whole clocks changing malarkey, either, and was preparing to write about a dish based on ground meat.
Whoa! What’s this? Deja Vu? Temporal disruption?
It is Monday, isn’t it? Or is it Sunday? Was what I thought to be Sunday just a very laid back Saturday? What did that make my Saturday then? Friday part II?
I need a cup of coffee.
Whatever today is, the facts, Sherlock, are these.
Yesterday evening, I made a rather nice meatloaf. I have the leftovers in the fridge, and it’s taking a considerable amount of self-control to resist scoffing it cold as a post-breakfast snack.
Apart from a glorious dollop of Dijon mustard, this dish should be served with a generous side of mash.
The cherry on the top of the cake would be a second side serving – Brussels sprouts with bacon and sesame seeds should see you home and dry there.
Whatever day of the week it is.