Mrs Prick has been working like a trencher(wo)man lately, right down to Sunday shifts down at the salt mine, and it’s all a fella can do to keep things together on the home front here at Stately Prick Manor. Thus left to my own devices for the day, and idle hands being the tools of the Devil and all that, the Lord’s Day was spent in procrastination (in terms of real work that could and should have been done) and gluttony (in the form of a bit of a Sunday feast) with perhaps a bit of prayer thrown in (God, don’t let me screw up the timings for this).

Thus Sunday dinner kicked off with some scallops – fat Japanese numbers done simply, wrapped in prosciutto with a cauliflower puree and some leek confit and basil:

The leek confit came about as the shops had sacks of “skinny” leeks – not ramps exactly, but not quite the big fat numbers one normally sees – and after a while barely poaching in oil on the stove, the rest is history. There’s also a heap more of the stuff now in a container in the fridge as well, waiting to be stirred through something (risotto, perhaps?).

For a little transition I knocked up a chestnut veloute – chestnuts are also just hitting the market, and with a base of bacon, leeks, homemade chicken stock, as well as a bit of madeira and sherry vinegar, its a helluva silky thing as we start to move, eventually, into winter in these parts.

Finally, a bit of veal: Chops, actually, big thick ones from Casino in northern NSW. Veal is supposed to be calf, and if that’s true whatever youngster this came from was one of those lazy kids who sat around all day playing video games. Fifty minutes in the sous-vide, a quick sear in the pan, some spinach, a white onion puree, and a sauce of madeira and veal glace (a bit of sherry vinegar and porcini powder balanced it when it was looking too sweet), happy days:

There was not, naturally, room for dessert, which was good, because the pastry chef had the day off and we were well sated. As Pepys used to put it, “and so to bed”.