One of my favourite books is Of A Feather by Colin See-Paynton.  It is an illustrated lexicon of avian collective nouns. For each of the birds described there is a description of the bird and some context behind the noun and there is a woodcut illustration of the birds together. So there is a Covert of Coots and a Parliament of Owls, an Exaltation of Larks and, one of my favourites, a Loomery of Guillemots.

I have had the book out this evening to see if there is a collective noun for Robins. There were four of them this morning in the branches of the apple tree immediately outside the kitchen. They were three to start with and they were then joined by a fourth. The fourth pushed out his chest and flicked his wings. They were only there for a moment and then they were off.

Colin See-Paynton had the answer and the word is an irascibility of Robins. There is a full page picture that could almost be the four that were there this morning with the fellow that I saw puffing his chest at the bottom.

Robins are notoriously aggressive when it comes to protecting their patch of garden and will happily fight off any rival trying to muscle in on their territory. I assume that what I saw was an attempt by some younger birds to to see if they could oust the resident cock Robin or perhaps a brief go at flirtation with my male trying to impress a group of females.

As Colin See-Paynton says “Irascibility, therefore, cannot be regarded as a true collective noun, being derived from and referring to a part of a Robin’s character that is generally overlooked.”

“If I were to say what I should really like to have for dinner,” replied Nicholas, in answer to his wife’s question upon the subject, “it would be fried mackerel,” smacking his lips as he spoke.

“Then that’s just what you won’t have,” said Mrs Dunks, as sharp as a north-east wind.

“Humph!” quoth Nicholas.

“Ay! And humph again !” responded his better half. “I’ve other fish to fry to-day, that I can tell you.”

“Then why did you ask me?” said Nicholas.

“Because I was a fool. I might have known you would be sure to give all the trouble you can on wash-day.”

“Humph!” quoth Nicholas again, as he took his hat off the nail, brushed it with the cuff of his coat, and clapped it on his head with the air of a man determined to have his own way.

“Where are you going now?” said Mrs Dunks.

“To get a fried mackerel for dinner,” replied Nicholas, marching out of the room, erect of body and resolute of soul.

Nicholas was right. A man is no man who cannot have a fried mackerel when he has his heart set upon it; and more especially when he has money in his pocket to pay for it.

NICHOLAS DUNKS; or, .

Rendang Daging.

Having spent my hour in the garden it was time to talk with the two elder children and count some of the damage from the previous night. We had been out and got home around 1.30 am. There were lights still on but the house was quiet. Inside the kitchen was filled with the remains of what had clearly been a good party. As we cleared away I counted the bottles; two vodka, one wine and 48 Buds. There was also a bottle of Talisker on the side with enough for a small glass left in the bottom. All told quite impressive.

For supper this evening we are going to have an Indonesian Beef Curry Rendang Daging. It comes from a book called Indonesian Cookery by David Scott and Surya Winata. I have had the book since we lived in Oxford and it was bought on the back of meals that we had at an Indonesian restaurant in Jericho called Bandung. Hopefully it is still there. They did a remarkably good satay sauce.

The curry is very easy to make. It just needs time. Peel a couple of onions, garlic and ginger. throw in some lemon grass and a few red chillies, ground tumeric, coriander and cumin. Although goes into the magimix to be ground down to a thick paste with some coconut milk.

The paste is then put into a heavy bottomed pan with some more coconut milk and brought to a slow boil. Add the beef, turned down the heat so it is just at a simmer and then leave for three hours.