That means a return to cooking. Now I know there are those who would spend hours happily pottering around their kitchens creating culinary delights, but I'm not one of them. I can't even blame it on my genes as my mother would devote an entire day to making a curry for a dinner party, painstakingly crushing all the spices. Me, I'd open a jar. See, I'm just not a natural born cook. Don't get me wrong, I can rustle up a decent enough roast or casserole and I'm actually quite good at puddings, but I'd rather read a book.
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| Abandon hope all who enter here.....if I'm cooking |
It's not as if I haven't got all the gear, there's the big cream range ( I absolutely love it but aesthetically rather than for what it produces), the red KitchenAid mixer (never used it but it does look pretty on the worktop), the juicer cum smoothie maker (ditto), the Emma Bridgewater crockery and pinny. I've even watched a couple of Nigella's cookery programmes but a woman in a fluffy cardie getting that excited over a pack of prawns was just too much for me.
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| All ready and waiting..... |
My poor children have become used to my rather unenthusiastic performance in the kitchen, son number one decided the answer was to take matters into his own hands and is now a rather proficient cook. At least there won't be any need to tuck Delia Smith's how to boil an egg book under his arm as he heads off into the big wide world.
My distinct lack of oomph in the kitchen was brought home when son number two wandered in and asked 'what's for dinner mum?' Before I could open my mouth, the computer repair man, who was there sorting out the PC yet again, piped up cheerily 'spaghetti bolognaise'.
When he noticed me looking at him with a decidedly puzzled expression on my face, (mainly because he was right, it was going to be spaghetti bolognaise, now how could he possibly know that?), he remarked 'I've been here four times now and each time you've been cooking spaghetti bolognaise for dinner'. Ouch. Time to buy a recipe book.
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