I feel I must go back to food

Having read this blog from end to end a few weeks ago – it must have been during the summer holidays – I decided that I went on about food too much and I would cease. Sadly I have had an experience this week that makes me want to revisit the subject, so apologies to my two readers, I just have to say this:

I don’t think that anyone will argue with the hypothesis that married life can be frustrating. Living with another human being, no matter how much you love them, has its challenges. I encountered one of these last week when, pushed to the limit, I asked my family (there are two of them) to help with the washing up after the Sunday roast I had lovingly (and skillfully) prepared for them. Suddenly there were pressing jobs that just had to be done.

In fairness Whizz did have to fly to Ireland that evening and needed to pack his bag – I had to drive him to Heathrow though. Mavis as usual had left her homework until the last minute so I found myself, alone and fuming, with the greasy dishes.

I had a conversation with myself. Who is the idiot here? Why do you feel the need to cook a roast on Sunday? Why aim to please everyone? They haven’t asked you to do all this, they don’t even seem all that interested in what you cook. I made a snap decision – my favourite type – OK I’ll stop. We’ll eat convenience foods, I can throw away the containers and get a life.

I couldn’t wait to get to Tesco. I bought Shepherds pie, lasagne. Spatchcock chicken in garlic butter, pizza with a stuffed crust, ready made mashed potatoes and prepared vegetables. I snuck round hoping nobody would recognise me. Silly me! I met a teaacher from work and felt I had to explain my basket – even though I would normally not even be seen dead in Tesco! None the less I felt really excited to be liberated from the kitchen.

The week started well. As you know I eat a low carb diet so the food I was giving to Whizz and Mavis was not the food I was eating. Mine was delicious. Theirs, it soon became evident, was not.

Shepherds Pie – what can you do wrong with that? Well, I don’t know where the beef came from but I have my doubts that it came from a cow! The lasagne was similarly flavourless. The pizza went down well although the pepperoni I bought to top it had a strange taste we didn’t like much. I had great hopes for the spatchcock chicken in garlic butter. Silly sausage! As with the beef, did it really come from a chicken and how did it get so flacid? Where was the garlic, where was the butter. There was liquid in the tin but if that was butter then its provenance was disputable.

On the plus side the food bill was actually lower than normal and the washing up – well, with the aid of the dishwasher and the recycling bin, I didn’t do any. The food however was – not to put too fine a point on it – disgusting!

So, back to local and free range. We’ve got used to it. I suppose we could get used to the other type of food but do we want to? I had a blinding moment of inspiration and decided that if I don’t want to wash up, and they don’t want to either, we should stop eating. No not really, but I’ve bought foil roasing tins and a catering sized roll of aluminium foil. I’m going to cook on that, simplesk!