Hair of the dog

Father’s Day kind of sucked for Husband. As I slumped off to fetch the car at 7am, I heard the thunder of Sprog 1’s enormous size 36 feet on the stairs, dashing up to pass on her best wishes. Sprog 1 and Husband don’t normally surface from bed until around 9am on Sunday mornings, so it would have come as quite a shock to both their constitutions. Husband had just convinced Sprog 1 to read a book and was drifting back to the Land of Nod when Sprog 2 did her own thundering up the stairs. When me and my crashing hangover returned at 8am it was gift time. Sprog 1 gave Husband a homemade badge and a voucher that promised she’d round up the chooks for him next time it rained. Sprog 2 made him a card and wrote the touching message: “I love my dad because he lets us watch movies”. Brings a tear to the eye, doesn’t it? I suggested something more emotive, but she stood firm. My contributions were a copy of Orlando on DVD (been dying to see that again), and some guide books for our holiday. I am thinking Husband would have preferred something electronic, or a cool T-shirt, but at least he didn’t get socks, like my brother-in-law. Actually, my brother-in-law requested socks for Father’s Day. What’s with that? I thought socks were the gift that sucked most in the world. But, no, Husband reckons he fantasises about being given a whole drawer full of new, identical socks, so he never has to spend 10 infuriating minutes in the morning searching for a matching pair again. I couldn’t bring myself to buy him a whole drawer of new, identical socks (socks are also surprisingly expensive) so my gift from the heart on Father’s Day was to pair all the socks in his sock drawer (ours is a truly one of the world’s great love stories, no?). Then Husband went to work – he works one Sunday a month, lucky man – wearing his new badge, while I went to my sister’s house for some hair of the dog (aptly named Starvedog Lane) paired with lasagne, garlic bread and buttermilk cake. Husband looked even greyer than normal when he finally shuffled in the door at 9.30pm last night (carrying the $180 food hamper he’d “won” at the school fundraiser, but fortunately not the five-year-old’s art work). Happy Father’s Day! 

TONIGHT’S MENU: Moroccan cigars and veg. The Sprogs love ’em, your arteries won’t (am including recipe below as evidence). Am worried there’s too much pastry in the Sprogs’ diet of late, but am trying to clear out the fridge before we go on hols.

Moroccan cigars – INGREDIENTS: 1 medium onion, finely chopped; 750g beef mince; 2 tsps cinnamon; 1/2 tsp allspice; 1/4 tsp ginger; 3 eggs; 500g filo pastry; 125g butter, melted. METHOD: preheat oven to 150C. Cook onion in olive oil until soft, add beef and spices, stir with a wooden spoon until meat is well-cooked. Lightly beat eggs in a bowl and pour over meat, cook for 1-2 minutes, stirring, until mixture sets to a creamy consistency. Cool. Cut filo into three equal sized rectangles. Cover with a damp cloth. Brush one of the rectangles with melted butter. Place a few teaspoons of filling at the short end of the rectangle. Tuck edge and ends of pastry around filling and roll into a cigar shape. Repeat with other rectangles. Place cigars on a tray, brush with melted butter and bake for 25 minutes until golden.