Wot? No Sunday roast?
March 17, 2013
I can’t believe it. We are not having Sunday roast today. It is a fact of Clarke life that Sundays means roast dinners. But not today.
It is only hubby and I in and he had a huge lamb shank (not rhyming slang) last night and feels meat-overloaded. So we are forfeiting the roast and having chicken Basque. Presumably he’ll pick out the chicken bits!
But it set me thinking about our family eating habits and how they evolved. I am no chef, but can cook as required to sustain life. I don’t have gourmet tastes and I have an inability to present things beautifully. You won’t starve if you eat my food, but you might not fancy the look of it.
When the kids were small I cooked their tea most nights. I would get in to a rut of cooking the same meals in a cycle. Something would work and then they’d have it every week for the next 3 months until it fell out of favour and something else replaced it.
I tried signing them up for school meals but they were shit. I’d thought if they have a nutricious meal at lunchtime I could get away with doing poached egg on toast for tea. But the school kitchens were the turkey twizzler kind of place. Where spaghetti hoops were counted as a vegetable. So that didn’t work.
I was never adventurous. Never took a joy in creating the meals, they were a neccessity. So it would be roast on Sunday, cottage pie on Monday. Maybe Linda Macartney Veggie Pies, peas and chips on a Tuesday, some kind of casserole on a wednesday (and possibly Thursday if I could pad it out with another can of tomatoes,) sausage and mash or Toad in the Hole on a Saturday. An occasional Pizza, fish finger or very occasional pasta dish (but son didn’t like pasta), but basically the variation would be in what was roasted or casseroled. That was about it.
Friday teas were usually at a friend’s house as she looked after them after school whilst I worked. And the joy would be the rum and coke I would be given as I came to pick them up. All six of them were often still at the table when I walked in, and then the delay would be that I would have to watch the ‘show’ that they would have spent the last couple of hours devising and rehearsing.
Usually the ‘Stepperson Sisters’ as they called themselves, would have chosen a Spice Girls song and they would dance immaculately to it. Occasionally their younger sisters would be allowed to be included, but usually it was just the big girls. And once of course for a Christmas bash I think – it was the boys. In the classic Stepperson sisters tiny black strap dresses, they shimmied and shook their way through a disco number.