Completely missed Earth Hour yesterday due to being laid low with a vicious tummy bug, about which the least said the better.
Had I not been writhing on a bed of pain and agony I would certainly have joined in, despite the fact that we had already endured a lengthy power cut the previous (Friday) evening. We had just started cooking dinner when the lights went out. A quick foray into the back garden confirmed that the whole area was in darkness, and out front, the streetlights were black, and neighbours bearing candles and torches peered out into the half-light, no doubt also wondering how they were going to fill their Friday evening with no TV/Internet/WiiFit etc.
We have a gas hob, but the oven and grill are electric, so although our dinner should have been gently roasting in the oven, after half an hour of scrambling around trying to find sufficient candles to light the kitchen, all the time hoping that power would be restored, hunger asserted itself and we decided to extemporise an oven-cooked meal on the gas hob.
Small dog, who is fairly punctilious about dinner time was not amused, as we faffed about tripping over her and each other, buoyed up by a jolly nice Sauvignon Blanc, which, as the fridge was no longer working, we judged best to drink as an aperitif to preserve its chilled perfection.
Cooking by candlelight is easier said than done, especially as we don't have any 'sensible' candles. A silver candleabra may be aesthetically pleasing, but it's bloody useless in functional terms, not to mention almost setting fire to the wall cupboards. Aside from that we have zillions of tea lights, which are just the right height to set fire to your sleeve cuffs and singe the hair off your arms.
Despite this not inconsiderable adversity we soldiered on, aided and abetted by the still passably chilled Sauv. Blanc and began to get into the spirit of the blitz, wartime austerity and all that. Although I don't expect there were many bottles of NZ Marlborough (aka nectar of the gods) down the Anderson shelters.....
Fortunately for small dog, as she had also been suffering from a gippy tummy for the past few days and had temporarily misplaced her appetite, we had pre-prepared a tempting menu, consisting of a delicately cooked chicken, potato and steamed vegetables which had been stored in the fridge from the previous evening's dinner.
Unfortunately for small dog, who likes her dinners warmed, we had no way of reheating it, as the hob was fully occupied and the microwave wasn't an option. So she had to rough it with a cold dinner. In order to soften the blow, and in a spirit of joie de vivre engendered by the wine, I added a jaunty garnish of of parsley, and laid her bowl on the murky depths of the kitchen floor.
Needless to say, just as we were about to serve our own dinner, the power came back on and we stood blinking in abject disappointment at being restored to relative civilisation.
So, off with all the lights again to resume an ad hoc candlight supper.
Apropos of nothing at all when we did turn the lights back on, small dog was just finishing her dinner, having delicately removed the parsley garnish and placing it disdainfully on the kitchen floor. So much for her gourmand credentials.