Fancy...

What a weekend.  Most of it was spent with my sister Miss R and the mother and highlights included an antiques emporium, new trousers, too much wine, a cold steak, a hot coffee, the First Mince Pie (always the best one) and the wrong knickers.  I'll let you work out for yourself which of these can be attributed to the three of us, but all I am going to say is that my roast duck was bloody perfect.

Today, I have been at a funeral of a beautiful family friend.  We all have these aunts and uncles who are not 'real' aunts and uncles, but who feature in our lives as we grow up.  It was lovely to see all the other fake aunts and uncles, but it always makes me sad that the only time they all seem to get together is when one of them shuffles off this mortal coil.

'I'll see you at the next one', piped up Mr H (he gave me my first job in his pub kitchen when I was thirteen).  Well, much as I hope that this won't be the case, it probably will.  Let's just hope it's not his funeral, as I would have loved to catch up with him a bit more than we did today.

I always think that the weirdest part of any funeral is the great party that we all seem to have afterwards.  Walking into Marlow Rugby Club (you'll be pleased to know that no one had odd shaped balls there today), it was buzzing with laughter and glasses clinking together in memory of the lovely Mrs M. There was also (glory be) a buffet.

Now buffets come in various guises...

Traditional

This tends to consist of beige food like sausage rolls, quiche, deep fried chicken/fish goujons, and pork pies.  There are sandwiches of three types (one meat, one fish, one cheese) made with white bread.  These have often been set out some time before the funeral party arrive, so there is an element of curling of the bread.  This is usually disguised with a cherry tomato or some carefully scattered lettuce.

Trendy

This is very different, and is often a large chilli or shepherds pie served in a bowl with a fork.  The only issue with this is that it leaves you no hand free to hold your drink of choice.  You see people weighing up their options - is it acceptable to do away with the fork and simply tip the chilli into an open mouth?  Or just skip the food altogether and concentrate on the wine?  At least with the traditional buffet you can hold your wine and the plate (at a rakish angle) and use the other hand as you please.

Classy

This is where today's buffet pitched itself.  Beautiful sandwiches (seven choices and three types of bread) and cake.  The perfect lunchtime feast.  I haven't told you the best bit though.  There were French Fancies.  This little cake is the absolute favourite of mine and Miss R's, and over the years, we have started referring to them as FFs.  Now I am perfectly aware that FFs can be something totally different, but in this case, they were a delicate fondant cake, and not one of those strange people you see around town sometimes.  I think Terry Wogan had a phrase which went something like, 'It's when you see people like this, that you realise that they haven't quite got them all locked up yet'.

'I only like the pink and yellow ones', said Miss R as we gazed longingly at the plate of cakes.  'No one likes the chocolate ones - you wait, that's all that will be left if we don't get in there quick'.

We managed two each, before I saw a narrowing of Miss R's eyes.  'That's the fifth time that man's been up', she said in a hushed tone.  'Look how many FFs he's taken, and not a single  chocolate one on his plate.  He's taken all the pink and yellow ones'.  

I looked at our plates (discarded on the window sill, with a neat stack of empty FF wrappers on the side.  'Have you got a new job then?' I asked.  'Joined the French Fancy Police?'

We had the last laugh though, as we found a small plate of them just behind the tea urn, so these were liberated for later consumption.

We left the chocolate ones though...