To Freeze or not to Freeze

My relationship with Freezing is evolving, marked by a slow thaw...

Before I go on, I should point out what type of freezing I am referring to, I am talking about the freezing of dead things to prolong shelf life, freezing live things to shorten life is a completely different art, and I would hazard a guess at it being mostly illegal (maybe not in Russia which seems to take a different view on these sorts of things).

Live freezing in Russia!

I am also not, today at least, talking about being freezing, this dit does not concern 'baltic-ness' or it being a bit 'pearl harbour'* , chankers or even harry ice-ers, no this dit merely concerns freezing.

My spouse (Buddha bless her orange robes) is an avid devotee of the whole freezing process.

I have on occasions received nasty lip burns when returning to my dinner after a comfort break only to find it frozen solid - chicken, bread, eggs, flowers, peas, anything I am about to use etc...

For her the exciting idea that ANYTHING can be preserved indefinitely is enough to see most things frozen even if only for an hour.

You will understand the frustration this can cause I think, if like me you have ever spent a fruitless 10 mins trying to chip a loaf of bread apart so that you can help yourself to a marmalade sandwich (this process would have killed Paddington, or at least left him streaming with blood).

I hate the way that in order to retrieve even the simple frozen waffle packet from the freezer you must risk hideous cold injury, that's if you can feel anything in your hands after the giant ASDA chicken has tumbled onto them causing, and I know this is to be a medical term, 'crushing injuries'.

Lets not go to deeply into the disappointment of tucking into a steaming bowl of recently defrosted soup only to realise to late that you have just re-heated last years stewed rhubarb - or worse, the chicken fat your thought might come in useful, somehow, oneday perhaps....

I am struggling now to understand the title of my own post as these horrific memories wash over me..ah yes..my dance with the freezing process has changed due to the re-introduction into my life of cider.

I, like most youths grown in the south of Britain (not sure what happens up past Gloustershire but I suspect it involves Newcastle Brown Ale, coal and dirty women), had an early introduction to fermented apple juice, often in an outdoor setting and using a straw and a plastic bottle. This brief early acquaintance had for me, put cider firmly into the 'lets not go there this side of Armageddon' bracketl, along with white lightning, Pernod & black and babysham.

But now I find it has been reborn, chilled on ice and served in a glass it turns out to be a cracking solution that thorny problem - the cheeky school night tipple. Added to which, I have it on the authority of a major curly headed fitness coach with dodgy bowels, that it is THE DRINK when it comes to losing weight; Isotonic, low calorie and counts towards your five-a-day..I think.

The new mothers ruin?

Clearly to have cider on ice, you must have ice, and hence the love evolves

* Anybody of a PC nature should look away now....Pearl Harbour - A nip in the air.