Him again...

Dinner was later than we'd have wanted again tonight. Annie was at the beautician so we had to wait for Martin to get home. He's not quite up to speed on our medicine, so he always starts by spending ten minutes peering at the labels on the bottles of tablets and consulting the calendar. Then he has a bit of a fight with my sister Chutney, as she doesn't like taking her laxative. Perhaps I should explain; Chutney and I are seventeen, which is quite old for cats, and we have a number of life-threatening conditions. Thanks to modern veterinary medicine, we can stay healthy and happy, but we each have to take several kinds of tablets - it's quite a complicated regime. We get our medicine before we eat; I don't know why but I think it might be the law. Anyway, by the time Martin had dosed us and put our bowls down on the floor, I'd all but shouted myself hoarse. Still, I enjoy my cod and Science Diet all the more when I've worked up an appetite with a good scream, and tonight I savoured every last flake of fish. (There was a bit stuck in my whiskers, but I found it later and had it for supper.)

As for their own dinner, Martin made one of his regular vegetable dishes, which he calls bhurta. It's originally Punjabi, but he's been making it so long that he suspects he's strayed away from the authentic recipe he found in the early eighties (long before I was born!). To make it he stabs a big aubergine a few times with a knife before roasting it under a grill (if you don't make little holes in the skin, it will explode). When the skin is black and the flesh is soft, he lets it cool down and peels it, chopping up the pulp. He then fries seeds - mustard, fenugreek, fennel, cumin and nigella - in a little bit of oil. You can buy this mixture of seeds already prepared in Indian shops; it's called panch phoreen. When the seeds pop he adds dried red chilies and the aubergine pulp. When it's sizzled a bit he adds tomatoes, usually chopped tinned ones, in about the same quantity as the aubergine pulp. This mixture is allowed to bubble away for a few minutes, then Martin adds a good handful of frozen peas or broad beans. It's ready when the peas or beans are cooked through. My humans love hot, sour, fresh tastes, so they sprinkle chopped coriander and fresh green chilies, and sometimes lemon juice, over the top. If that's what they eat in the Punjab, I'm glad I'm not a Punjabi cat.

But that's me being subjective, sorry. Martin served it alongside the dudhi curry he'd made last night, some salad, yoghurt and ready-made chapattis heated in the toaster. (He'd normally make his own, but tonight he couldn't be bothered.)

So there was nothing about their dinner tonight that I'd have thanked you for, though I noticed Martin made himself a packed lunch for tomorrow with some sardines. Now that's a bit more like it.