Help in the kitchen

We are in Devon.

After an almost 6 hour journey in the pouring rain followed by 2 hours of unpacking and rearranging it was all I could do to prepare steak frites yesterday evening. Then the laptop didn't recognise the router (whilst the young man's did) and I was detained later into the evening trying to unpick the vagaries of Vista.

(I guess we must consider ourselves lucky to have broadband down here provided by Demon. BT will no longer supply this hamlet as it's too far from the exchange. So we are a notspot - it's official)

So it was with pleasure that I got up this morning, made coffee, and heard the front door opening. It was the housekeeper.

Every year I hope that we might find a summer housekeeper who is really a help in the kitchen. So far I've not been very successful. It's all very well being happy with the hoover and ace with the iron but I could do with some holiday time too. On the other hand I'm a bit fussy about eating. I'm consistently amazed at what passes for cooking...

But this year I think we may have chosen well. 'S', our twenty-something housekeeper is relaxed and fun. Her car is covered with stickers - which appeals to the young man - but she does come with previous experience as a chalet girl and as a commis in a country house hotel near Bath.

So this morning I showed her the fried egg dream and she produced Juevos Fritos for breakfast in short order and without spraying boiling oil round the kitchen. (I know it's not the weekend - but we're on holiday!)

Encouraged, I gave her the Focaccia recipe and she duly made the dough and moulded the loaf. And then she made Boulangere Potatoes and Hoummous..! Now I'm impressed.

I baked the Focaccia and it's fine! This is a very good start...