Yesterday it was William’s birthday. Unfortunately, William had school that day, so we dropped him off at school and then Mummy drove me and Tilly to our usual club. Today we were making gnocchi. Who knows what that is?
No idea.
By the way that was pointless if you didn’t have an idea.
Well it doesn’t to me because I’ve actually got more of a reason than that dumb’n’dull Mr. Seedy has!
What is it, Ms Pizzayes?
Thank you for saying my name correctly – Ms Pizza-yes. Anyway, I think (and I know) that ‘gnocchi’ is a type of cheesy and hammy pizza.
Everyone, I should of repeated that weird lady’s name. But, Ms Pizzayes, I’m afraid you’re wrong…
I’ve got one, Ms!
Yes, Master Ronald Weasley?
Is it a type of cheese?
No, Weasley.
I am correct, for I always am, and I read a lot of books.
Ms Hermione Granger, I know your name without looking at you, yes, Granger?
It’s a pasta, Ms. The thing is, it is not made of egg and flour, like other pastas are, it is potato, flour and egg. As I may say, I am (I know) correct.
Hermione, I do not remember asking you to show off, but yes, you may be excused to be correct. And, people, it is made of egg, potato –
There is no point saying that for I just did and everyone is sure to listen to –
Me, you are also correct.
Right, enough of this now. While we were at the workshop, I played with a little 5-year-old, I might already of mentioned her before, but anyway her name was Livvy. We got our egg and flour and mashed down our potatoes with a potato ricer. Hermione Granger is correct.
We peeled them, then cooked them, then squashed them with the potato ricer, then we squelched it in with the egg and flour. Hermione Granger is again correct. Then we made them into balls, put them on a saucepan on the hob, set it on GO, boiled them and then we put pasta sauce on them. That’s the part where they were delicious…So Hermione is always correct.
And that’s what and why and how to make gnocchi.
It’s helpful to fill your stomach up – I ate three courses! I’m telling you, who’s never eaten gnocchi before?
Me.
Me.
Including me.
Well, Jim Morrison, Lady Gaga and Michael Jackson, it tastes delicious. Jim, my lad, and your dead pal Michael, you won’t be able to make it, because you’re dead, but that awful Lady Gaga, she’ll be your maid, it’d be her punishment for her awful, ignorent singing about ‘Paparazzi’ – you don’t even know if it’s her dad or not! But, Jim, Lady Awful, and lastly Michael, it tastes like potato goodness and vegetabley tomato sauce with ball-shaped yummy stuff.
Then we went to the park with our friends. Isla was there too with her mummy. Her mummy – a month ago – had a new-born-baby born. She’s called Elodie, a month old, and she’s soo cute! I kept holding her, and Mummy wanted her so much she kept shooing me off to play while she had an ENORMOUS go. Elodie didn’t cry on me unless she needed her nappy changing, or needed feeding, but apart from that she just fell asleep on me happily, getting her arms comfy and wrapping her teeny tiny baby legs around my arms, even though it was her first visit meeting me. I think she likes me.
I played with Isla a lot too on the slide, zipwire, and she wanted me to read her a story about a giraffe who ate a line. :/?
