BIG NEWS: last night, I cooked dinner for P and I. I know, I know, back the truck up, what were you thinking A? Just yesterday you were all concerned about selling out on your feminist principles and now you're cooking his dinner? You are a fembot sell out! You are a disgrace to the species! And you didn't even use the opportunity for a sneaky vegetarian attack?* A, YOU EVEN MISSED THE OPPORTUNITY TO LOW-CARB THAT SHIT. ARE YOU TRYING TO SABOTAGE YOUR OWN ASS?
Yeah, spag bol for the family registers as a big event round these parts. P does most of the cooking and I am the designated sous-chef. I love this role, 'cause the sous-chef jobs I get assigned are generally along the lines of "mix the martinis, woman!" or "get out of my way", in which case I can go back to whatever Bachelor/Flavour of Love/Teen Mom/Kardashian programming I can find (I watch AWESOME television, what can I say. Who wants to come home from work and have to use their brains in the evening? Not this little piggy!).
I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU SAY. SHE'S PRETTY WITH BIG HOOHOOS THAT SHE DRESSES IN A SLUTTY CASUAL MANNER AND SHE IS MOSTLY NICE TO HER SISTERS. I CONSIDER HER ROLE MODEL MATERIAL FOR ME. YES I AM STILL A FEMINIST. ONE WITH ISSUES.
P is a veritable genius in the kitchen. He does things with beans that make me weak in the knees (read that how you will you filthy-minded imaginary readers). The one drawback is that his cooking prowess makes him unreceptive to the some of the specialities in my repertoire, which is a constant source of disappointment to me. P does not consider that the following foodstuffs make an acceptable evening meal:
- Toast. Even if I go beyond Marmite and slap some avocado or tomato or *exciting day* both on that bad boy P does not consider it dinner.
- Cereal. Even when we had a packet of Lucky Charms so it was like eating sugary green marshmallow juice with crunchy bits P would not stomach cereal as a complete meal.
MMM LUCKY CHARMS.
YOU GUYS ARE LUCKY WITH ALL THE EXCELLENT PICTURES ON THIS BLOG, ARE YOU NOT? JUST BE GRATEFUL I DID NOT GIVE YOU THE LEPRECHAUN THROWING UP LUCKY CHARMS WITH A FESTIVE HOLIDAY GREETING. SAVING THAT ONE FOR MARCH.
- Toasted sandwiches. Apparently baked beans are only a morning/hangover food and creamed corn was only acceptable for lunch (if that) when we were impoverished students living in the slums of North Dunedin.
- Biscuits. Is there anything wrong with having an entrée of cheese and cracker (pickles if I'm really lashing out) followed by a main of cookie? Sometimes I add a celery stick to ensure that I am reverse psychologizing the calories (don't tell me you've never bought into the argument that celery takes more calories to digest than it contains. It is BRILLIANT).
No, now that we are real people living grown up lives (allegedly) we must have a balanced evening meal that takes more than inspecting the fridge to prepare. I really like this in theory. It's not like we avoid take out; pizza has an important place in our lives as does quick cook fresh pasta from Sainsburys. But I have to admit, removing toast and cereal from the repertoire has left me with very little to work with recipe-wise so spag bol remains on the menu, unexciting or no. If there is anyone out there (echo...echo...) please know that all your 30 min meal suggestions would be gratefully received.
*I like to 'surprise' P occasionally with a lack of meat. I am usually caught out within about two prods of the fork, following which he mutters "would bacon have been too much to ask?" or mournfully intones "is there any chorizo in the fridge?" On particularly strenuous work days he has been known to demand "DID AN ANIMAL DIE IN THE MAKING OF THIS MEAL? BECAUSE THAT'S MY BOTTOM LINE, RIGHT THERE". He usually sucks it up though and has even whispered once or twice that my vego meal was tasty.