WELLINGTONS
Hello! Well last week I had a cold and so didn't feel like cooking anything in the end, let alone something unusual. But now I'm feeling acceptably human again it's time to reward my body by filling it with a load of experimental nonsense. Kill or cure, and all that. From the title you might assume that this week I'll be eating some form of sturdy footwear. And in making that assumption you'd be quite wrong - I may make up stupid recipes, but I'm not really looking to push the boundaries of omnivorism into the realms of eating anything that I can lay my hands on. Or rather my feet, in the case of wellies. No, this week we're tackling an issue that's vexed me for some time: why is it that beef has the monopoly on being wellingtoned? For those who have never heard of it, beef wellington is a dish where you get a perfectly good (in fact, usually a very nice) bit of beef, smear it in an awful mushroom paste and then cover it in puff pastry and pretend