Last night, Margaret — whom all will agree is a fine cook — was preparing a spicy roast vegetable dish, when it became clear that she needed to deploy two separate roasting pans. That, in turn, mean preparing two separate batches of spices… (You may see the plot twist on the horizon…) So she administered the mix of spices onto the first tray, and then another onto the second tray, and it wasn’t until both trays were in the oven that the penny dropped and she realised (ominous chord) that for each tray, she had mixed the same quantity of seasonings as she had originally calculated for the entire batch.
So the roasted vegetables were exactly twice as spicy as she had intended that they be — and she had been aiming at the hot end of the spectrum from the start.
In the end, with copious dollops of improvised yogurt dressing, I was able happily to finish my serving. Margaret got most of the way through hers, but gave up for fear of causing irreparable damage. I finished the leftovers today for lunch — with yogurt support. Very tasty, but very spicy.
Two miles of slow, steady jogging this morning, hot breakfast and coffee, and work on my sermon for St Nic’s tomorrow.