‘Cooking Doesn’t Get Tougher Than This’
Since leaving work, it is fair to say that most of the domestic duties have fallen to me. It is also fair to say that I am probably still enjoying the novelty of being able to put a load of washing on in the middle of the day, and not having to unload the dishwasher at 6am.
The Greek God(zilla) also seems to be rather enjoying taking more of a back seat, and has used this time to proactively develop a few new catchphrases; the most common being ”What’s for dinner, love?”
Every evening when he returns home from a long day at the office, he will first enquire whether I have ‘just been on the internet all day” and then wander off into the kitchen to see what’s cooking.
Now that sole responsibility for feeding the family appears to belong to me, I have tried to make sure that we sit down at the table together as often as possible. Not only is this an opportunity for family time and to chat about our day, it also means that I only have to cook one main meal a day.
Leaving more time to spend on the internet, natch.
I have been experimenting with our new slow cooker and found it to be absolutely brilliant for making ordinary chicken and vegetables taste really , really good. I went casserole crazy for a few weeks, chucking every chunk of potato, carrot and herb I could find into the slow cooker and waiting to see what magnificent dish emerged 8-hours later.
Although, there are still only so many ways you can jazz up minced beef. No matter what I do with it, it always seems to turn out tasting exactly like bolognaise. Bolognaise with potato on top; bolognaise stuffed inside a pepper; bolognaise with chilli and kidney beans; and just plain old spag bol, which is always by far the best kind of bolognaise anyway.
In an attempt to acknowledge my renewed efforts in the kitchen, and because he thinks he is hilarious, the Greek God(zilla) has started to critique my culinary skills a la Masterchef style.
He will load up his fork, slowly raise it to his mouth and take a large tentative mouthful.
He will then chew quietly and nod, while allowing his eyebrows to raise in either mock surprise or confusion. Then, in his best Greg Wallace impersonation, he will describe bold, deep flavours that are dancing all over his taste buds.
If the dish is to his liking, he will declare it to be an “absolute triumph!”.
However, there have also been times when he thinks I have over-seasoned the vegetables, or not put enough salt on the meat. Or, he says it just has a funny smell.
To be fair, sometimes it does just have a funny smell.
It is on these occasions that he will deliver his verdict as ‘ordinary’, ‘bit bland’ or ‘nothing special’. This is when I politely remind him that he is always welcome to prepare himself a dish of Pain au Warburtons, served with oeuf a la scramble and a baked bean jus.