Easter was brilliant. All that preparation was worth it. We went out into the wilds of Norway (OK only a few km from the safety of the pub which is a rarity enough in these northern climes) and when we came home there was some fab grub just waiting to be eaten with relatively little effort. I'm sorry for going all Jamie Oliver there but I was having a Saul on the road to Damascus moment there.
Maybe it's time for some context.
I like food. Duh.
I like to cook from scratch.
I'm not some flamboyant chef but ask me to throw in some alcohol and I'm there with no thought for burning down the house.
I'm busy. I hold down a reasonably demanding job so cooking fulfils a basic need to receive nutrition.
It's just I enjoy it.
So since Easter we've been working our way through some of the usual things in our repetoire. As well as a few new things.
I tried Japanese egg rolls earlier in the week and made a complete hash of them...they tasted great, they looked awful. I wouldn't have served them to my cat (If I had one). So maybe to context list up there you can add vanity.
I will have to name check Elizabeth David here because she wrote in brilliant terms about people who cook just to get fuel are missing an enormous point (I'm paraphrasing wildly here so forgive me). She wrote with passion for food and for eating, not some roman excess, just good food made sensibly and with a desire to give pleasure to those who eat it. Now the fact it has to look good. That's just the way we're wired as humans.
So tonight I made some Thai chilli bean cakes, a vegetarian version of Thai crab cakes or fish cakes. They were OK but nothing like the crispy darlings in the cookbook.
I wonder if there's a moral in there somewhere???