24 February 2010

Minus point to moving out. Pt 1

Oh dear. I have discovered a minus to moving out of the nest and surprisingly, it is not having my laundry done because I already do that myself.

It is realising that a Sunday evening in my own abode/houseshare will not include a huge piece of brisket that has been slowly cooked in the oven on a very low setting for the day. Cooked so slowly that cutting in to it is like slicing through soft butter. Melt in the mouth stuff. Complete with fresh veg and homemade gravy.

My mum is a great believer in cooking everything she possibly can from scratch. This brisket was from a local farm shop and my goodness, I'm not a foodie but even I was taken with it.

It does help that my mum is a fantastic cook which is how I've never managed to lose the pounds I've put on since moving back home.
Mind you, I'm the sort of person who to enjoy food, has to be in good company. When I'm on my own I pick at food and don't eat much at all.

So when I do move out it looks like I shall be coming home of a Sunday evening for at least one decent meal because I will no doubt go back to my student habit of having porridge/cheese on toast/baked beans on toast/tuna mayonnaise sandwiches for tea with toast and yogurt during the day.

This is why when I was a student, I was skinny as a rake and why now, I have some weight on me. It is my mother's fault entirely. She has this insane need to feed people and to dish them up massive platefuls of food. She still overloads my plate now, even though she knows I don't have a majorly big appetite.

I guess nothing beats good home cooking though :o)


Roses said...

I agree with you about having someone else cook for you.

Left to my own devices, I won't cook for myself, I'll nibble throughout the day. Have someone else cook for me, and I'll eat piles and piles of food.

Annette said...

Yes, it is the first thing you miss, your mums cooking!
I know I did and it's lovely to go home and have a roast cooked for you.
You will soon learn how to do it yourself athough I would never say I'm as good as my mum, but nobody has moaned about my cooking. Well, not yet!!!

cogidubnus said...

My mother was a truly foul and useless cook...I'm not kidding - she saw a recipe once for scrambled eggs and totally screwed it up for years after (don't ask)...

I guess my upbringing on burnt and undigestible rubbish made me interested enough to want to learn to cook, so when there was a sixth form optional course I went for it...it wasn't THAT sophisticated (this was 1971/72!) but it gave me a lifelong interest in what I slung down my throat...

As a result, I'm still quite happy to swallow ready-meals when I'm feeling lazy, but when I want, I can certainly do a Delia...and neither Sunday roast nor Christmas dinner hold any fears...

Have no worries...you'll learn!