Porridge Perfection

I’ve been away across the sea with the Northern Irish contingent of the family. It’s been a crazy-mad schedule of toddler-hugging, new-puppy squidging, tractor-driving, vats of tea-drinking and bottomless biscuit tin-fuls of buttery homemade shortbread eating – I know, tough times. The thing is, it ruins me. Once upon a crazy time, so many sheep and so few TK Maxx’s would have scared the bejesus out of me - now I have a peculiar urge to buy a wax jacket and live on a hill overlooking the Sperrins. Don’t get me wrong, Sunday nights and Tax return season aside, I’m pretty darn happy thank you very much. But on the plane home the prospect of wheeling my suitcase along the saliva-splattered pavement towards my rented house that’s so close to the station I can hear if the trains are delayed while I’m making my morning cuppa, made me feel like the polish on my shiny South London life had all rubbed off. 
BUT, then I opened the in-flight menu and things got infinitely better. Porridge…? Porridge, on an EasyJet flight?! And it’s that slightly posh Moma stuff they sell at Waterloo station. It must be good! Gimme, gimme.

Five minutes later a hot paper pot is plonked on to my tray table. 
Orange-faced Easyjet steward: Stir it round, put the lid back on and wait two minutes.

Wow!  A-mazing! Pain-free porridge – who’d have thought? You clever, clever, multi-talented Easyjet staff, you.

Five minutes later….

Me: Erm excuse me. But my porridge is a little, well, wet. And erm, pretty chewy. Do you think you could possibly…”

Orange Easyjet steward: It’s supposed to be like that.

Really? REALLY? Are you QUITE sure? Because it looks nothing like the picture in your big fat lying menu brochure. (I should have thought nothing less from a company that makes you pay for an extra bag then taps you for an extra forty quid because you didn’t know you had to pay for the weight as well). If such miracles as the two minute porridge pot really were possible, do you think I would spend a whole ten minutes STIRRING my porridge on the HOB into creamy perfection every morning when I really should be doing something important like putting the bins out or shaving my legs? Do you? Do you, Punk?!

I didn’t say any of this of course. I silently seethed in my seat, said 'thank you' very politely when they took the uneaten pot away, then I came home and made this instead.

Top Banana Porridge Brûlée

35g porridge oats

225ml semi-skimmed milk 

One small banana, sliced in to roundels

Golden caster sugar

Put the oats and milk into a saucepan and mix well. Bring to the boil over a medium heat, then reduce to a gentle simmer and cook, uncovered, for 5 minutes, stirring frequently. Pour into a heat-proof bowl or ramekin, scatter the banana slices over the top and sprinkle with golden caster sugar. Dampen the sugar slightly with a light squirt of water from a bottle spray. Now for the next bit you really could do with a blow torch. I don’t have one (who does?), so instead popped it under the grill until the bananas were all bubbling, brown and crisp.
All better now.