Staying in has been the new going out for quite some time in our house. This
is mainly due to the insane cost of babysitting but also to my husband's
mildly eccentric diet, the cornerstone of which is that one must never eat
standing up.
Even for those of us whose other halves do not suffer from canapé-itis, nights
out have long since lost their allure. For breeders like me there is the
sheer organisational feat of finding a babysitter (£40 before you've so much
as ordered your dry martini), the hassle of rooting out something
half-decent to wear, the wails from the children as you prise them off your
hem in your selfish quest to seek out some adult company, the ensuing guilt,
and the fact that when you and your husband do eventually get some time
alone, all you do is discuss the mortgage.
Assuming that you can overcome those considerable obstacles, there is an even
trickier hurdle to clear: feeling duty-bound to enjoy yourself. As
expectation is the enemy of happiness, it stands to reason that the more you
stay in, the less miserable you will be. Once out, you spend the evening
constantly checking your watch, trying to forecast the severity of your
hangover (usually I find that the units of alcohol drunk multiplied by hours
of sleep lost gives you a workable mark out of 20). This feeling of doom is
only exacerbated by the nagging knowledge that, were you at home, you could
be drinking delectable discounted Ruinart at £34 a bottle and not nasty
house fizz at £9 a glass - all in the comfort of your own relaxing pants.
Besides, why go out for your entertainment when there's so much to do at home?
Now that it's dark at 4pm there's no need to go jogging after work (after
all, it is fully nine months before the next ray of sunshine comes around,
so who cares if the thighs go to rack and ruin?). Take advantage of this
excellent situation.
Catch up on some reading (I've recently become hooked on the wintry detective
novels of Henning Mankell), slow-roast that leg of lamb, make a stew, get
started on your Christmas cards, curl up with a hot-water bottle in front of
the log fire. Hunker down in a pile of blankets and spoon-feed yourself some
shelter from the storm.
The truth remains: going out is for either the very young or the very rich, or
both - that section of the population with few wrinkles and even fewer
worries. Good luck to them. For the rest of us, it's time to embrace the
great indoors.
Sarah's Top 5
Sweaty Betty yoga pants
Insanely comfortable, and on the stylish side of slobby
Rococo chocolate olives
Almonds wrapped in thick dark chocolate with a crispy shell: like really
classy M&Ms
Louis Latour Aloxe-Corton
Warming, spicy Pinot Noir. Not cheap - but better value than a babysitter
Casino Royale
Or anything else featuring Daniel Craig
Hudson cable blanket
A chunky throw, to be worn unashamedly over the knees
FOOD
Something in the colour of autumn tells you to stop, rein back, hibernate. The
world outside has changed from green-for-go to amber; next can only be a
metaphorical red.
But this orangey pause is a rewarding one. Trees may have already given in but
the vegetable world is rubbing its hands together. Pumpkins and squashes
abound in their sturdy jackets, begging to be turned into soups, tarts and
roasts. Grab the last of the season's wild mushrooms if you see them in
markets. Their earthy notes strike the right mood for the simplest of fare,
fried with butter and garlic and piled on toast. Nuts, too, have their
season, and contain the life-giving fatty acids and slow-release energy to
keep you ticking over through the winter months.
The darkest of the minerally greens, kale, and her Italian sister cavolo nero,
improve after the first frost, so you could begin to include them in heart
and hand-warming soups, stews and braises.
Pulses come into their own now, too, in slow-cooked dishes. Empty a can of
beans or chickpeas into the pot and you add a sturdiness without starch that
will only improve over the course of a few days.
The natural world is slowing down - as should we; changing pace is key. This
food demands that time should be taken over its preparation and cooking.
Short days slip easily into evenings, so draw the curtains on the cold world
outside and warm your hands round a bowl. There's nothing to go out for
until spring arrives again.
Beef stew with beans and thyme (Serves 8 )
This is best cooked in advance. The gravy is elegantly thin and flavoursome,
perfect for mopping up with crusty bread.
Ingredients:
Olive oil (or dripping)
1.75kg chuck roast or braising steak, cut into large pieces (think small
steaks, not stewing cubes)
2 carrots, chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
4 large onions, chopped
6 garlic cloves, flattened under blade of knife
Small bunch thyme
2 dried bird's-eye chillies, crumbled
1.5tbsp Dijon mustard
800ml red wine &/or fresh beef stock in whichever combination you prefer
Plenty of sea salt and fresh pepper
2 tins haricot blancs or cannelini beans, drained.
Method
Heat the oven to 150C (300F, gas mark 2). In batches in a large casserole,
brown the meat carefully in olive oil or dripping, removing to a plate.
Deglaze with the wine or stock, reserving the liquid. In the same pan,
soften the carrots, celery and onions in a little more oil over a medium
heat for about 10 minutes, then add the garlic and continue to fry for a
further 5 minutes.
When turning golden, return the meat to the pan along with the red wine and
stock, chillies and thyme. Cover, bring to a simmer and put in the oven for
2hours. After 90 minutes add the beans, season to taste and return to the
oven for a final half an hour. Serve with buttered kale and warmed, crusty
bread.
Mushroom, leek, walnut and roquefort pie (Feeds 4)
This is completely vegetarian but so robust that I defy any carnivore to miss
the meat.
Ingredients:
375g packet ready-rolled puff pastry
300ml milk, warmed
60g butter
1tbsp flour
1 medium onion, chopped
1 bay leaf
A good grating of nutmeg
350g mixed mushrooms, the wilder the better, roughly chopped
2 leeks, trimmed of green tops and cut into half-centimetre discs
50g walnut halves
100g roquefort, crumbled
1 egg, beaten
Joanna Weinberg
BOOKS
Turn off the radio, switch off the television. The computer, too. Remember the
days when we could sit, in an armchair, on the sofa, snuggled up in bed,
just reading for hours and hours? I guess it's no surprise to hear a
literary editor say that life holds few greater pleasures - especially if
there's a warm fire, a good glass of wine and something delicious to snack
on in the vicinity.
People always talk about “beach reads” but, frankly, the beach is a terrible
place to read. Sand and salt water are not good friends to books, and sun
cream in your eyes will make you squint. Much better to go for long-haul
reads in the autumn, when the turning leaves can make you think of turning
pages.
Believe me, I understand the temptations of the DVD box set - I've been there
with The Wire, with Deadwood, with Curb Your Enthusiasm too. But there's
nothing like a really great book to make the world truly vanish - the cold
outside, the worries of work or family life, all for a few hours can be
dispensed with completely if you find the right author to whisper in your
ear. Curl up under the duvet and read.
Bleak House by Charles Dickens: Its famous fog-bound opening is the perfect
setting for autumn.
Murther and Walking Spirits by Robertson Davies: Read all this wonderful
author's books - but why not start with a ghost story?
Mary Poppins by P. L. Travers: Miss Poppins, as I'm sure you will recall, was
blown to the Banks household by the east wind.
The Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizabeth George Speare: Forget the film and
read the book - a Newberry Award-winner in the United States, it is an
exciting novel, not just for kids, set in the 17th-century American
colonies.
The Emperor's Children by Claire Messud: Published to huge acclaim, and
rightly so, a couple of years ago. New York high society. Gripping and funny
- and true. Erica Wagner
FIREWOOD
A wood fire, especially as the days become shorter, makes primevally
compelling entertainment: the writhing flames, the hissing, wheezing and
popping of the burning wood, the collapse of logs - time to add a new one -
and the glow of the embers. Much better viewing than a flat-screen.
First, find your wood. If you have the property, you can chop, season (leave
out to dry for at least a year) and stack your own. More likely, you'll
depend on a log merchant who should charge from £50 to £70 per cubic metre.
That's at least 300kg.
Then there are the freebies. In the country, that involves keeping your eyes
peeled for dead wood going begging by the side of the road, picking it up
during your constitutional (ask the landowner for permission to take it), or
using off-cuts from your garden.
If you live in the city, the Clean Air Act may well prohibit you from enjoying
a wood fire - check uksmokecontrolareas.co.uk. If you are allowed, the best
urban hunting grounds for firewood are skips.
Now lay your fire. Take a generous base of scrunched-up newspaper, a layer of
dry kindling, a smallish log or two, et voilà - the building blocks of a
good hearth fire. There's nothing wrong with firelighters instead, though.
Fireplaces need tools and ephemera including fire dogs, a guard (to protect
the sofa, and to dry tea-towels), tongs, a poker and some bellows. Use those
to breathe life into your fire, let it catch in earnest, then start adding
your logs.
Purists maintain that ash is the king of firewood, while beech, oak, hawthorn,
mulberry and rowan all get good notices. Really, though, anything dry will
do, even pine, but get your chimney swept regularly. Glossy magazines burn
with satisfyingly colourful flames. Ensure that the room isn't airtight -
this starves your fire.
Yes, central heating is the easiest way of keeping toasty. Simply flick that
switch: ker-thwump - the boiler kicks in, up goes the temperature. But
staring ruminatively at a radiator is no fun at all. Luke Leitch
GAMES
Nothing brings a household together, or drives it apart, like a humdinging
board game. The intimacy involved in gathering cheek by jowl to push pieces
and counters in an effort to outwit and crush each other is guaranteed to
generate warmth and goodwill towards your nearest and dearest, or expose
long-held resentments in explosions of fury and frustration.
The greatest board game is, of course, chess: the most brutal, thrilling fun
you can have sitting at the kitchen table. Backgammon fans (it is unlikely
that you love both) may disagree. Monopoly is ideal for those seeking a
credit-crunch fantasy. Scrabble is still the best word game. Ludo edges out
snakes and ladders, and Cluedo offers a chance to escape to a house party
more intriguing than the one you are at. Damien Whitworth
COMPUTER GAMES
For family gaming, Nintendo's Wii rules the roost, and its compatibility with
the BBC's iPlayer service means that you can catch up on any TV you missed.
Sony's PlayStation3 doubles as a Blu-ray player, and Microsoft's Xbox 360
offers a movie download service. You pays your money...
Computer games:
Guitar Hero World Tour (all three consoles)
The new version of this play-along classic arrives in the shops on November
14.
Little Big Planet (PS3)
Sony's big game for Christmas allows players to construct their own levels and
share them via the internet. Out today.
Wii Music (Wii)
More than 60 instruments to “play” using your Wii remote. Out on November 14.
Fifa 09 (all three consoles)
Best football game of the year.
Pure (PS3/Xbox 360)
Racing game; take on all comers via the net.
Nigel Kendall
KNITTING
Knitting and purling is the perfect antidote to the cold winter drizzle of
the coming months. No longer the exclusive domain of grandmothers, the
therapeutic repetition of casting off and purling has been rediscovered by
hordes of young men and women, who meet weekly in pubs and hotels around the
country.
Instead of wasting our lives in front of yet another period drama on
television, we should spend winter evenings relearning this age-old skill.
Not only does it make use of that downtime, but in the frugal months ahead
it could help us to save a fortune on gorgeous fingerless gloves - at a
fraction of the price of any in Brora.
Thirty years ago I would clasp a pair of kneedles and a ball of wool in my
sticky hands as my grandmother guided me patiently through knitting and
purling my first scarf. Sitting in front of the fire, she taught me that the
joy of knitting was that you could keep half an eye on the world around you,
but also drift in and out of conversation as you lost yourself in your own
thoughts - and concentrated on not dropping the next stitch.
For inspiration and patterns: www.iknit.org.uk
; www.knittingonthenet.com; www.bhkc.co.uk
Alexandra Blair
MUSIC
It has happened to us all. We've seen a new album emerge in a blizzard of
critical superlatives, bought the CD, taken it home and then ... struggled
to make room in our lives for it. I'm not talking about bad records, merely
those unsuited to booming from your front room or kitchen speakers.
Take the White Stripes. I'd see them live but I've never felt the need to
marinade chicken or play Scrabble while listening to Jack White's bluesy
declamations. If I'm hosting a dinner party, I may play Björk's
still-impeccable Debut album. But if I'm trying to wind one up, I'll hasten
my guests' departure by playing the impenetrable excesses of her recent one,
Volta.
In the kitchen, a record deck beside a box of trusty soul seven-inches comes
into its own after midnight. The inviting scrape of fingers finding chords
on a fretboard means that it's never a bad idea to soundtrack a small-hours
game of poker to an old favourite by failsafe Seventies troubadours such as
Nick Drake, Pentangle and John & Beverley Martyn - or, indeed, the
following selection...
Al Stewart: Down In The Cellar While waiting for your favourite vintage to
breathe, allow this 2001 album - 13 tunes inspired by Stewart's love of wine
- to establish the mood.
Van Morrison: Veedon Fleece In a few days Van (pictured) performs Astral Weeks
live in California, but this pastoral paean to a mythical Ireland is easily
its equal, conjuring a magical ambience that lingers long after the record
has finished.
James Yorkston: When The Haar Rolls In Though he is yet to record a dud, the
Fife singer-songwriter's latest album comes with its own fireside glow. Our
most under-celebrated songsmith by a mile.
Neil Young: Sugar Mountain Transport yourself to Michigan 1968 with this
charming live set from the fledgeling Canadian legend, complete with lengthy
inter-song anecdotes that cover a range of subjects from buying a new car to
popping “diet pills” while working in a Toronto bookstore. Out in December.
Paolo Conte: Elegia Asti's second most well-known export spins a baker's dozen
of exquisite compositions suspended between European melancholia and
yellowing celluloid half-memories of the jazz giants of his youth. Pete
Paphides
DVDs
The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (12) Swap downturns for dwarf helms and
recessions for ring wraiths and surrender to the ultimate escapism: 12 hours
of yawning vistas, stout-hearted heroism, cracking monsters and, should you
last to the end, an overdose of jubilation.
The Wire Season 5 (18) The last of the series - the last season concludes with
a bang. And if you haven't yet discovered what all the fuss is about, start
from the beginning. We know, the thought is exhausting, but it's worth it:
the perfect way to spend a weekend indoors.
I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue: Live on Stage (12) Humph and his cohorts always
worked best on the radio, but there is also something gorgeously reassuring,
not to mention funny, about watching these jumper-clad verbal gladiators go
about their business.
Cinema Paradiso (15) Cheering, laughing, crying, jeering: the Sicilian
cinemagoers in Giuseppe Tornatore's film are one of our sweetest
demonstrations yet of the power of the silver screen. You'll mostly be
crying.
Blackadder: Complete Collection (15) A handy synthesis of delicious wordplay,
historical satire and shameless slapstick, and a reminder of a time when
Richard Curtis and Ben Elton were genuinely untouchable. Ed Potton
TELEVISION
Little Dorrit (BBC Two; Wednesday & Fridays): The BBC's 14-part autumn
Dickens rags-to-riches tale continues.
Oceans (BBC Two; from Wed, Nov 12): Philippe Cousteau and team explore the
seas in a stunning new series.
Wallander (BBC Two; this month): The adaptation of Henning Mankell's Swedish
novels takes in three single films, with Kenneth Branagh as the flawed
sleuth.
Einstein and Eddington (BBC Two; this month): David Tennant and Andy Serkis
star in a top-notch dramatisation of the story behind the theory of
relativity.
Gavin & Stacey (BBC One, Christmas): The acclaimed comedy's Christmas
special.
Affinity (ITV1; Christmas): A tale of Victorian Sapphic love. Time for bed?
James Jackson
