I'm married to a 34 year old man desperate to re-live his youth, as are the four other friends he went out with in Manchester last night in search of their teenage years. Off to Sankey's they trundled, having had to check the dress code on the website before - none of them had been since their late teens and they realised that shell suits and glo-sticks are out, but didn't know what was in. (They actually asked for a glo-stick at the bar and got blank stares in return. How I laughed).
So, feeling sorry for myself as I was meant to be in Berlin this weekend, I decided to be a good wife and make something yummy for when he got home, feeling middle aged and mourning his mis-spent youth. Having raided the cupboads and realising they were bare, I couldn't quite bring myself to go to the shops.
There was bacon, but it was streaky; If I tried to feed him a bacon sarnie with streaky bacon, I may as well have given him a fruit salad for his mid-night munchies. But maybe that'd have to do? Ah, no bread. Shall I make some?
Lightbulb moment - Bacon Cheesy bread! It doesn't need yeast, it's more like a cake in that way, so no need to let it rise which was a good thing - with Col being out and me feeling sorry for myself, I'd managed to sink a bottle of wine whilst watching SATC, so I couldn't guarantee not passing out before the oven timer pinged.
Anyway, I knew hubs would love, love, love me for freshly baked bread when he came home, warm with melty cheese inside, salty with bacon, stodgy to soak up the vodka (alas, they may want to relive their youth, but none of them can handle the lager of the '90's any more. In fact, they started with champagne - would you have ordered that at 18, lads?). It doesn't take long to make and no kneading necessary - perfect for a Saturday night.
I was wrong. As he stumbled through the front door, talking to the cats and doing elephant tiptoes up the stairs, I whiffed that distinct tangy, scraped-up-off-the-floor, garlicky-in-a-bad-way, only-attractive-when-you're-drunk kebab smell.
My husband. Had brought home. A Kebab. It was worse than if he'd brought home a random woman. Ish.
Even worse, he slopped it into a bowl and brought it to bed. To bed! The only time I've had a kebab in bed was with my fab friend Lou at uni, drunk on Morrinov vodka (that is (was?) Morrison's own brand Vodka, for those of you not in the vodka conoiseur arena). For the record, Lou was the ultimate kebab monster. She used to eat half walking home and save the rest for the next morning . Even Lou has grown out of Kebabs now. I was never a kebab girl. Chips and gravy? Every Friday night. But never kebab. So for my husband to bring a kebab home when I hadn't had one in my home for nearly ten years was bad. The fact that he'd rejected my bread? Grounds for divorce.
So, he passed out at 4am. I lay awake for hours, eventually falling asleep to the smell of kebab, the sound of bird song and drunken snoring.
But it turns out that Bacon Cheesy Bread is the ultimate hangover cure, given that he gobbled 5 slices with a cup of tea only 6 hours after kebab-gate.
So if you want to know 'How To Feed A Man' (that was for you, Sarah at Maison Cupcake), make this bread to cure a hangover; a vodka hangover and a hangover from your youth. This bread is the new, middle aged man's kebab. No Glo-sticks necessary.
*I remember reading this recipe somewhere. I don't remember where. I searched for it and ending up based this recipe on one I saw on the back of a flour packet some years ago. So if this is something to do with you, I'm sorry I've not give you any credit!
Bacon and Cheesy Bread
- 150g smoked bacon, cut into small pieces
- 320g plain flour
- 3 tbsp Baking powder
- 1/2 tsp salt
- 1/2 tsp black pepper
- 100g grated cheese (I used vintage Cheshire Cheese)
- 200ml milk
- 2 eggs
- 50ml olive oil
- 1 tbsp wholegrain mustard
1. Pre-heat your over to 180 and line a loaf tin with baking paper.
2. Cook the bacon until crispy and leave to cool
3. Sieve the flour, baking powder, salt and pepper into a large mixing bowl, add the bacon and cheese and mix together.
4. In a separate bowl, mix the milk, eggs, olive oil and mustard and add slowly to the dry ingredients, stirring all the time until combined to make a batter.
5. Pour into the prepared tin and bake for 50 minutes. Remove from the tin and bake for a further 15 minutes to crisp up the bottom.
6. Leave to cool on a wire rack.
Hubs munched this with butter, but for me, you could do a lot worse than dunking this in tomato soup. Gorgeous.