After wine my most favourite drink has to be gin – not on it’s own and it has to be diluted to perfection; too weak and it’s like bad tasting water and too strong and it’s like firewater but get it just right and it’s my All Time Favourite tipple.

Gin and tonic, ice and a slice

Refreshing in the summer and appetising before any meal – well not breakfast of course!

So when flicking through all my monthly magazines I came across a recipe hidden amongst the home made gift section – Lemon gin or vodka I just had to try it…I did it for YOU.

The Essentials recipe says ‘Tantalisingly tangy, a great antidote to the post-Christmas-dinner slump.’ AND as a special extra today, as it’s Christmas and by kind permission of Mammasaurus I can reproduce her hilarious poem for you ‘Oh Look! Oh No! It’s a Gin-alo!’ which is the perfect poem to accompany my recipe – see below and laugh!

Ingredients

4 large unwaxed lemons
200g caster sugar
70cl bottle of gin 

LEMON GIN

1. Grate the zest of 3 lemons into a large saucepan and squeeze in the juice of all 4 – don’t worry if the seeds go in.

2. Add the sugar and heat very gently until it has dissolved. Bring to the boil and turn off the heat immediately. Pour in the gin and stir. Cool completely

3. Strain through a fine sieve into a jug and then pour into clean bottles – I bought my 50cl bottle from Lakeland for £3.99 but I needed 2, it just doesn’t look the same in a used water bottle!

It can be drunk on it’s own as a shot but it’s strong, I diluted mine with tonic water and added ice but not the slice. it was delicious and a new firm favourite, I can imagine this would be fabulous in the middle of a hot summer too…not much longer to wait eh?

Who made the selection and who didn’t?

These guys made it!

 

Another cupboard that has seen a drastic wipe out ready for the house move has been the drinks cupboard and I’m assuming most houses have the same as ours did pre – clear out.

Dregs in a bottle of Ouzo dating back to a lads holiday about 20 years ago – never touched since.

A bottle of Rucolino – untouched – my Italian friends will hold their hands up in horror, but the fact is we just don’t drink it here. Chucked down the sink.

A half bottle of Limoncello, delicious when sipped by the sea on a hot Italian summer night – loses its appeal back home when a cup of tea does just the job.

A bottle of Bum – I kid you not. There is a rum sold by that name in Prague airport. It tickled me pink when I gave a bottle to my brother one Christmas and repeatedly asked people if they’d like some of Dom’s Bum :)

So who made my scrutinous selection? Well the bottle of Veuve, Christmas pressie from Jean waiting  to be cracked open in the new gaff – can’t wait and can’t believe I haven’t already drank it!

Vodka from Warsaw – the real mc coy, delicious over ice cream.

Pimm’s –  the summer is almost here and I love a Pimm’s with all the fruit.

Brandy – for cooking and colds/flu ie in milk with honey.

Irish whiskey – not my favourite this one though.

Port – My other half drinks it but only twice a year (Don’t ask!)

and Gordon’s, one of my favourite tipples is a G + T with ice and a slice.

Have you got any monster alcohol hanging around at the back of your drinks cupboard?

They’re the worst aren’t they?

You hear occasionally in the papers of neighbours warring and ending up in court as they won’t turn their music down, or tidy their front/back gardens dragging down the whole area.

Well here on The Croft we’re very lucky.

It’s a little peaceful haven and to be honest there’s not an awful lot to gossip about. We’re all very polite with our ‘mornings and ‘evenings, asking elderly Ted after his wife Leah who’s undergoing the umpteenth trial at removing cancer from her breasts definitely.

I’ve lent my sieve to Emma opposite on a couple of occasions and my magical potion PoxClin for chicken pox to Vicky on the back row when Josh followed my girls with the itchy disease.

We have been known to share drinks out front in the summer, come out after midnight on New Year’s Eve to pass on our good wishes for the new year and the kids play together, in general it’s a happy community…until last night that is.

I glanced at the clock as I woke. It’s a habit since the girls arrived just to see how much sleep I’ve had and unlikely of getting unless they go straight back down. It was 0.42

I tried to turn over and go back to sleep thinking I was having another hot flush but I could hear this woman’s voice in my head and couldn’t turn her off. A car alarm went off and I knew it wasn’t one of those scratched disc moments but real life.

We both went to the window to make sure it wasn’t our car and lo and behold there were number 69 shouting at the top of their heads and wrestling on the pavement.

She stood up.

He didn’t move and we could see he had a huge holdall with him, he just lay in the gutter whilst she poked him with her foot.

Incensed that she wasn’t getting any reaction from him she jumped into her car and started to rev up the engine madly.

She reversed away from him not taking her eyes off him for a second and then drove the bumper right up to him, nudging him to move. The engine was straining under the continued revs and making a hell of a racket but that didn’t stop her. And I couldn’t take my eyes off the scene unfolding beneath me.

The car next to her went off for the second time.

‘Shall I call the police?’ He asked me. No, it’s a domestic, it’ll be all over in a minute.

We watched, as he dragged himself to an upright position and started to walk away. She got out of the car, leaving it in the middle of the street and they met in front of the car. She started to punch him, hefty angry punches and at one point she was smashing his head against the bonnet.

She was one angry lady.

He fell to the floor and she started to kick him, venting her anger on him.

He managed to break away and holdall over his shoulder started to walk out of the Croft.

Was she going to leave him be? Hell no. She jumped in her car and making a Formula 1 racket followed him.

I jumped back into bed at this stage tired and worried the girls might wake and keep me truly awake. Paul followed and sleep swiftly followed.

Would you have intervened?