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Feeling somewhat the worse for wear today, following our Eurovision Song Contest dinner party last night.
For those of you not in the UK, Eurovision is a Europe-wide institution. Nearly every European country chooses a song and singer to represent them in the competition and each country then votes for the best song, usually following televoting in that country.
It all started fifty years ago – and was taken completely seriously in those days – but nowadays it has descended into a riot of kitsch, beloved by gay men and parents of young children who need something to do on a Saturday night.
So last night we printed off our scorecards and dutifully gave each entry marks for the song, performance, outfit and dance routine. We drank too much champagne in honour of our glamorous friend Inge (freelance beauty editor and sometime mirror mirror model)’s birthday; ate too much cheese fondue and salad nicoise (suitably Continental, yet cheesy, we thought); booed when Cyprus gave Greece its douze points as per usual; and cheered when Finnish ‘horror rock’ band Lordi (think Meatloaf meets the Lord of the Rings) emerged as winners.
For pudding I made a heap of Green & Black’s scrummy Chocolate and Dried Cherry Brownies and copied Nigella‘s idea to pile them up on a plate and cover them with birthday candles. We were too drunk to take a proper picture of the finished result, so instead I’ve scanned in the picture from How To Be A Domestic Goddess so you get the idea. (Don’t bother with Nigella’s brownies, though, which came out rather cake-y when I made them.)
On the subject of proper brownies, do any brownie experts out there know how I can achieve a proper chewy crust? The Green & Black’s brownies, while absolutely delicious, are quite soft and a bit short on chewiness.
Oh sod it, have clearly forgotten another birthday. Happy days, beautiful…
Dxx
PS For those across the Pond, it may also be worth explaining that while the UK regards the Song Contest as a camp joke, the majority of European countries approach the thing in the spirit of deep competitiveness, and tactical voting is rife. While in Austria this week I heard a very pissed-off pundit from one of the smaller Eastern bloc countries complaining that the UK lowers the tone by sending its D-listers, rather than its top acts. “Why don’t they send Robbie?” he suggested petulantly. Why indeed…
That sounds so fun. And the brownies look delish!