Just not this mother.
Having investigated making scrambled egg, my next culinary adventure inspired by my fondness for crime fiction set in the first half of the 20th century was gin.
Specifically Gin and It, i.e. gin and Italian vermouth.
Despite my name I've never tried or even wanted to try gin, so this was genuinely new territory for me, or rather us, as My Beloved joined in.
So, gin. Gin, gin, gin. It's absolutely mingin' isn't it?
We tried Gin and It with varying proportions until the vermouth just about drowned out the gin. Then we tried gin and lemonade. At that point I gave up and had vermouth and lemonade which I *do* like. My Beloved persevered and tried gin and coke, gin and Irn Bru, and goodness knows what else. This evening we tried gin and tonic, it being the classic.
Oh Em and indeed Gee. Nasty medicinal topped with even nastier medicinal (I leave it to you which is which). It was like doing a Bushtucker Trial. I think we'll have to face it, we're just not cut out to be grownups...