Richard’s agreed to collaborate with me on this chapter.  He’s going to do the lion’s share of the research for it.  He’ll be spending practically the entire day over at Onslow’s.  My poor husband!  I can only imagine how relieved he’ll be to be back at home in The Bucket Residence enjoying my haute cuisine cookery (See HYACINTH BUCKET'S BOOK OF BETTER-CLASS BRITISH COOKERY, Chapters 1-10 inclusive).  A man of Richard’s calibre cannot be expected to live for long on a steady diet of spaghetti and chips.  It’s all right for Onslow of course.  He’s never experienced anything else.  Well I shall leave it to Richard now and then I’ll come back in at the end and reassure all my Readers – and my husband -- with A Final Word.

{Richard.  I shall be in the lounge, dear, putting the last little touches on HYACINTH BUCKET'S BOOK OF BETTER-CLASS BRITISH COOKERY. Ring me from Daisy's if you need me.}

{And Richard.  Don’t be late for tea, dear. } (See Chapter Five: TEA)
 

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Well it seems I’ve become an author now.  It’s not a bad sort of assignment.  A welcome respite from deadheading the roses and polishing the car, really.  Hmmmm.  I shall need to be careful what I say as I expect Hyacinth will be proofreading this.  It feels really quite odd, driving off all alone in the car.  I can’t think when’s the last time I’ve driven over to Onslow’s by myself.  Actually, I don’t feel that I do drive.  I just steer.  Hyacinth does the driving.

Well here we are.  Amazing.  I remembered the proper turnings, found my way, and managed to park the car in the turnaround at the end of the road and all without further instruction!  One could get used to this.  Yes.  I think I rather enjoyed that drive.  It’s the first time in ages I’ve been able to hear myself think.

Now I’ll just knock up old Onslow and ….. oh I hope I haven’t forgotten my notebook.  Hyacinth wants me taking notes for her Cookery Book.  Whew.  Here it is.  And my pencil.  Where’s my pencil….. oh good.  Got it.

{Oh hello, Onslow.  No, Hyacinth's not with me this morning.   I’ve come all on my own.  Ho – wait a minute!  Steady on, Onslow!  What?  You need a drink?  What's that?  Me?  Oh I don’t know about that, Onslow.  It’s a bit early, isn’t it?  Well I suppose just one wouldn’t hurt.  But only one!  I’ve got to keep a clear head for researching Hyacinth's Cookery Book.  Hmmm?  Well yes...I suppose you’re right.  It would be research, really now, wouldn't it?  Yes, you're right.  I do believe you're right, Onslow. One can hardly be expected to do research into your dietary habits without first-hand knowledge!  And this is quite good, Onslow.  But have you switched brands?  You've given me a Stone’s.  Ohhhh  Daddy’s drunk all your Boddington’s for breakfast.  Oh dear.  Well I don’t think we should tell Hyacinth.}

{But you're right, Onslow.  It's time to get down to business.  Pure scientific research, that's what we're about! I shan't worry about Hyacinth and we’ll just get on with our research here.  Another?  Sure.  Why not.  I don’t mind if I do.}

{Oh hello Daisy.  Yes, I’m here on my own today.  Hyacinth’s sent me round to take notes  for her Cookery Book.  She wants me to get recipes for your sandwiches, Daisy.  What’s that, Onslow?  No, I haven’t drunk too much.  I’ve hardly begun on my second.  What did you say, Daisy? Will you become famous for your cookery?  Hmmm.  Well I don’t see why not.  If Hyacinth intends becoming famous for all the stuff she’s put into her Cookery Book that we rarely get to eat, I see no reason why your spaghetti and chips shouldn’t be known round the world.  Here.  Let me get my notebook out.  And my pencil.  There. Now you can tell me all about your spaghetti and chips and I’ll just write it down here in my notebook.  What’s that, Onslow?  I haven't been here ten minutes and already you’re sitting there surrounded by no beer?  Oh dear, I guess I've drunk more than I thought.  Oh I don’t know… do you think that's really a good idea?  Have we got time for stopping into the pub?  Hyacinth's expecting me home for tea.  And my orders are to have Daisy's recipes in hand.  Well...yes...I suppose it is early yet.  I suppose I’ve got time – just one drink though!}
 

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{Good morning!  The Bou-quet Residence.  The lady of the house speaking!  Oh it’s you, Daisy.  What’s the matter, dear?  What?  Richard’s done WHAT??!}

Oh good heavens.  I knew I shouldn’t have let Richard go off on his own this morning.  Not when I woke up the way I did, with a psychic pain between my shoulder blades.  Well what’s done is done.  Daisy can keep him there till he’s fit to drive home.  It serves him right if he misses his tea! (See Chapter Five: TEA)

{Hello?  Yes, Elizabeth.  Listen, dear.  I need your help.  My Editor’s given me a deadline for my Cookery Book and he’s put a heavy requirement on me.  Come over for coffee, won’t you?  And bring your thinking cap.  Or better yet – your chef’s hat!}

There.  That’s solved.  Elizabeth will know how to make spaghetti and chips and all that sort of thing.  She practically raised Gail on lower middle class fare.  I expect it’s why the girl’s living so openly and unashamedly unmarried with that boy.  And I’m sure it’s why Elizabeth’s husband’s never come back from the Middle East.

{Oh hello – it’s you, Elizabeth.  How good of you to come, dear.  A tiny bit early perhaps.  I’ll just go and put the coffee on whilst you remove your shoes.  And then I shall want you to bring all your culinary imagination to bear, Elizabeth.  It’s for my Cookery Book.  My Editor thinks people want to know about chips and bacon butties and packets of crisps.  I cannot imagine why.  I shouldn’t put them in myself of course. But there’s no accounting for taste. My Editor is decidedly not the upmarket sort of person one would wish, Elizabeth.  Well no matter.  I shall simply trust my Readers not to read Chapter Eleven.  What?  Bored?  Oh no I shouldn’t think so.  No.  No no no, goodness gracious me no, Elizabeth.  My Readers wouldn’t dream of becoming bored after Ten Chapters of  HYACINTH BUCKET’S BOOK OF BETTER-CLASS BRITISH COOKERY.  No, I couldn’t expect boredom to save them from reading Chapter Eleven.  No. I shall rely on my Reader's inherent good taste.  The sort of person who reads HYACINTH BUCKET’S BOOK OF BETTER-CLASS BRITISH COOKERY is most assuredly not the sort of person who will wish to read Chapter Eleven. Still, perhaps I ought to consult our Vicar about it. He could say a special little  prayer on behalf of my Readers. I’m sure the good Lord will see the value of my Readers not reading Chapter Eleven.  I shall insert a blank page just before it so they’ll think they’ve finished.  Meanwhile, I’ve got my Editor breathing soya sauce down the telephone at me day and night!  So let’s have your recipes, Elizabeth.  That’s right.  Good.  I knew you’d help me out, dear.  Let’s see now…. Hmmm.  Oh dear.  Elizabeth, I think we shall have to work on these together.  It appears they require a touch of my own stylish cuisine…..  Richard?  Oh he’s gone off on a little educational trip.  He’s taken up an interest in local architecture.  I expect him home in time for tea.}
 
 

SPAGHETTI AND CHIPS

½ cup plus 2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil (particularly important if you’ve got a Rose in the house!)
1 medium onion, peeled and halved
¼ pound piece spiced pancetta (I don't know what this is but Elizabeth says you can get it at the Italian market)
10 cloves garlic (5 pressed, 2 finely chopped, 3 cracked)
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
Three 35-ounce cans plum tomatoes, pureed in your liquidiser
One 28-ounce can tomato puree
6 large fresh basil leaves
2 medium lean beef cutlets (about 9 ounces each)
1 Tablespoon fresh flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
2 teaspoons freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese, plus more for garnish (We're back to the Italian market!)
4 to 5 links sweet pork sausage with fennel (about ¾ pound)
4 pork spare ribs (about ¾ pound)
½ cup white wine Meatballs (recipe to follow)
1 pound pasta, such as ziti, penne, or pennoni (Put this on your Italian market list too.)

In a large saucepan, heat ¼ cup oil over medium heat.  Add the onion, pancetta, pressed garlic, and salt; saute for 2 minutes.  Stir in the pureed tomatoes, tomato puree, and basil.  Bring this to a simmer and cook it for 45 minutes.  Remove and discard the onion halves.

Place the beef cutlets on your work surface.  Sprinkle each piece with 2 teaspoons of olive oil, 1 clove finely chopped garlic, 1 teaspoon parsley, and 1 teaspoon cheese.  Season with salt and pepper.  Roll the beef, and tie it with kitchen string.

Heat the remaining ¼ cup oil in a large cast-iron skillet over medium heat.  Add the cracked garlic and cook for 2 minutes.  Place the rolled beef, sausage, and spare ribs in a skillet and cook until golden brown, 8-10 minutes.  Add wine and cook for 2 minutes.  Remove browned meat from the pan and add it to the sauce along with the MEATBALLS. (We're having these instead of CHIPS.  I think that's better, don't you?)

Add 2 cups of water, and return to a simmer.  Cook, stirring frequently, over medium heat for 1 hour and 15 minutes.

Just before the sauce is finished, bring a large pot of salted water to the boil.  Add the pasta and cook until it’s al dente.  Drain, and transfer the pasta to a large serving platter.  Stir the sauce to combine all the ingredients and ladle the sauce over the pasta.  Serve meats on a separate platter.  Sprinkle cheese over the pasta and meats.
 

MEATBALLS

1 ½ pounds ground top sirloin
¾ pound ground pork
¾ pound ground veal
2 cloves garlic, pressed
2 Tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
½ teaspoon coarse salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
½ cup freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese
2 Tablespoons finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
3 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 slice Italian bread, soaked in water
¾ cup unseasoned dry bread crumbs
½ cup light olive oil

Line a baking sheet with paper towels; set aside.

In a large bowl, combine the top sirloin, pork, veal, extra-virgin olive oil, garlic, salt and pepper.  Add the cheese, parsley, and eggs.  Squeeze the water from the bread.  Tear the bread into small pieces and add it to the meat mixture.  Add ¾ cup bread crumbs and stir to combine everything.  With your hands, form small meatballs.  When you’ve finished, you should have 20 of them.
 

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{Emmet, you can't leave!  No, you must stay for lunch.  Sit down here at the table, dear, and test out this recipe for me.  Now I won’t take no for an answer.  You were good enough to run to the quality butcher’s for me.  You shall have your reward.  Come along.  Oh… and dear… just give us your shoes, will you?  Here, you can remove them whilst I go and wipe your footmark off my woodblock.}

{Oh my word – is that the Vicar’s car?  How nice.  He can join us for lunch.  I’ll just go and greet him at the door.}

What?  Oh good grief.  He’s brought a whole carload – they look like the Keystone Kops disembarking all at once like that.

{Who?  Richard?!  Daisy!  Onslow!  Oh....hello, Vicar!  How nice of you and your charming wife to pop in for a visit and bring all my family.  (Rose, cover your knees!)  Do come in, won’t you, Vicar.  Elizabeth and Emmet and I are just having lunch.  You’ve brought lunch?  Oh?  Helping with my Cookery Book.  How very kind of you, Daisy.  Well go on then, dear, open your parcel.  Let’s see what you’ve brought me.}

{What is all this?  Sarnies.  Butties.  Chips.  Bags of crisps.  Yes, thank you very much, Onslow, I can see they’re smoky bacon flavour.}

{Well....  my word....  Isn’t this nice.  My Editor will be pleased I’m sure.  Richard.  Give Daisy your notebook and pencil, dear.  Go on, Daisy.  Write it all down for my Readers.]

Though Lord knows the upmarket persons who’ll be reading HYACINTH BUCKET’S BOOK OF BETTER-CLASS BRITISH COOKERY won’t have an interest in this sort of thing.

{Vicar, you and your charming wife can sit down here next to Emmet.  Elizabeth, bring the Vicar and his charming wife some of your stylish cuisine, dear. Richard, you can help Elizabeth serve the plates if you will, please.  Onslow, you and Rose  stand over there. You can have your plates on my work surface. And mind my fruited pyramid -- I spent all morning arranging those oranges!  Daisy, start writing dear.}
 

{Ooooh!  All right, our Hyacinth.  Look, Onslow, I’m writing about Sarnies for our Hyacinth’s Cookery Book!  Do you think I’ll become famous, our Hyacinth?}
 

{Not if we’re lucky, dear.  Just write down your recipes, Daisy.}
 
 

SARNIES and BUTTIES

All right.  Here’s what you need for one SARNIE or one BUTTY (they’re the same thing only they sound different).  If you want to make more SARNIES and more BUTTIES you just use more ingredients.

2 slices of bread or a bun
1 Tablespoon lard
4 rashers of bacon
Brown Sauce or Tomato Ketchup

Now first you fry your bacon in the lard (sometimes on really ‘Special Occasions’ I grill bacon for Onslow and then you don’t need the lard).  Take a couple of slices of bread or a bun cut in half.  Slap on some butter or margarine.  Then pile up the bacon and slap the second bit of bread on top to keep it all more or less together.  For a deluxe SARNIE or BUTTY you can pour some sauce over the bacon before adding the second bread slice. (brown sauce is good but Onslow generally fancies tomato ketchup).  Whenever I make bacon SARNIES or BUTTIES for Onslow’s breakfast in bed, I always make four of them, two for each of us and I add a fried egg on the top of each one and we make a real meal out of it.
 

{That’s very nice, Daisy.  That ought to sort out my Editor.  Now write down the CHIPS, dear, and then you can all go home in time for Daddy’s tea.  Daddy’ll be home from the Over 60s and he’ll be wanting his tea soon.  (See Chapter Five: TEA)
 

{Oooh, our Hyacinth.  Onslow says I do great CHIPS!  But first I think I should write down all the SARNIE and BUTTY varieties Onslow likes.}
 

{Oh very well.  But be quick about it, Daisy.  It's time you were all getting home, dear.  Daddy would wish it.}
 
 

VARIETIES of SARNIES AND BUTTIES

The  bread and butter and sauce are all the same, but instead of bacon, you can do SARNIES and BUTTIES with CRISPS (Onslow’s favourite is smoky bacon flavour) or you can put CHIPS on.  Onslow says, 'Nobody makes chips like you, Dais!'.  He’s so romantic, isn’t he, our Hyacinth?  I think he looks like Marlon Brando in 'Streetcar Named Desire'. And he's mine!  All mine!. Oooh!
 

{Calm yourself, Daisy.  You're a married woman!  Marriage is a fine institution, designed to eradicate feelings like that.  Look. Daisy.  Here.  Let me help you, dear.  We shall do this one together.  I think your CHIPS need a touch of my own stylish cuisine.}
 

WAFFLE CHIPS

3 baking potatoes
9 cups of peanut oil, for frying
coarse salt (for that distinctive ‘Onslow’ like flavour)

Using a mandoline fitted with the waffle-cut blade, cut the potatoes into 1/8 inch thick slices, creating the waffle pattern by turning the potato a half-turn after each slice.  Transfer the potato slices to a bowl of cool water to prevent discoloration.

In a heavy-bottomed Dutch oven or high-sided pan, heat the oil until a frying thermomenter registers 375 degrees.  Remove about 12 potato slices from the water, place them on a clean (Daisy, are you paying attention, dear?) kitchen towel and thoroughly pat dry.  Carefully slip the potato slices into the oil (the oil temperature will drop down to about 360 degrees) and fry them, moving the slices with tongs or a slotted spoon, until golden, 1-2 minutes.  Transfer to paper toweling, drain and sprinkle with salt.  Repeat this procedure until all the potato slices are fried.
 

{There.  Now that’s done.  Let’s pack all this up and you can be on your way.  Daisy. Onslow.  Rose (Rose! leave Mr Hawkesworth's chips alone, Rose!) Now come along.   Home you go!  Daddy’ll be back from the Over 60s by now.  He’ll be wanting his tea.  (See Chapter Five: TEA)  So there you are!  Off you go!  We don’t want Daddy arriving home and nobody's there to make him tea, do we?  (See Chapter Five: TEA)  What did you say, Richard? WHAT?!  Daddy’s at the front door?  With his friends?  What friends?  Daddy hasn’t got any friends.  The Over 60s are at the door!  Daddy’s brought the OVER SIXTIES -- HERE??!  For Tea?  Oh good grief.  Whatever next.   Well there's nothing else for it. Put the kettle on, Richard.  Daisy, bring us your parcel, dear.  Lay us out the SARNIES, BUTTIES, SPAGHETTI and CHIPS. We’ll ALL have TEA!}
 
 

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{Oooooh Richard.  I thought they’d never leave, dear.  WHAT a disaster to my Tea and Light Refreshments! (See Chapter Five: TEA).  But no matter.  There’ll be other days.  Yes, dear.  Of course I’ve forgiven you.  That’s what wives are for, Richard.  But just pour me another small sherry, will you, dear.  Yes, that’s fine.  That's very nice, Richard. And Richard.  Just leave the bottle, dear.}
 

When it's all right to substitute the sherry decanter for the tea pot.

This is when.

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To all my Dear Readers,

A Final Word on Entertaining (for the Socially Unfortunate):  If you've managed to read this far, I hope you've learnt enough that Chapter Eleven hasn't totally stir-fried your basic good manners.  And I do  hope you’ve all enjoyed HYACINTH BUCKET’S BOOK OF BETTER-CLASS BRITISH COOKERY.  I much enjoyed bringing it to you.

Wishing you all the very best in haute cuisine cookery,