If your work place is anything like mine, you’ll be knee deep into that awful point of the year where everything is winding up, up, up before it begins to wind down for the silly season. I’m leaving the house around 730am and getting home after 730pm, though it feels a lot later given daylight ends at 4ish! I know a lot of people are working a lot longer and later, so I count myself lucky, but I am still absolutely knackered by the time I get home. And usually very hungry, which soon becomes very hangry.
For roughly two thirds of the week, hell is not breaking loose from my hangry moods… we’re either eating out or a certain someone is on dinner duty, but as we share the cooking, there is still that third of the week where I must don the apron and whip something up. Not usually an issue because you all know I love to cook, but at the moment that enthusiasm is nowhere to be found after a day of slogging it out in the office. I don’t seem to have many quick meals in my repertoire so I could turn to the takeaways or better yet, use the delivery option… Tempting but that combined with my current less than active lifestyle is not going to end well!
My drinking habits have certainly changed over the years. Back when I was a bright, young thing recently let (legally) loose on the town, my drink of choice was vodka. That blissfully tasteless spirit was well masked by lemonade with a squeeze of lime, or red bull for the nights we were dancing well into the wee hours of the morning. Wine was strictly cheap, white and to be guzzled at BYOs and beer was always a last resort. By the start of my working woman days, I had graduated to ciders in the afternoon, cocktails in the evening, however the wine guzzling at BYOs was still very much a thing.
Now that I’m a fully fledged adult, quit your sniggering, my main alcoholic squeeze is wine. Though I’m not adult enough to ditch the cheap and white completely, I have expanded the range considerably and a glass of wine with my meal is now the norm. And just when I thought my drinking evolution was complete, I recently discovered a fondness for dark beers such as stouts and porters. My 19 year old self did not see this coming. But rest assured, younger me, they haven’t knocked wine off the top spot in my affections, though that love was tested a few times at The Selkirk’s Beer v Wine Supper Club.
I used to think I was a pretty good cook; not the kind that’s good enough to work in a restaurant but the kind that can throw together a meal without breaking into a sweat. I have a good grasp of basic kitchen skills, a decent repertoire of dishes I can whip up almost to perfection, and there haven’t been any major complaints… well not to my face anyway. So if you were me, you’d put yourself into the ‘can cook’ category wouldn’t you?
Those daydreams I had about ‘being crowned the next Masterchef’ or who I would pick as my partner on My Kitchen Rules swiftly moved from the ‘what if’ box to the ‘dreams are free’ one. It was a bit of a reality check, I’m a decenthome cook but there are some scarily professional home cooks out there. Of Instagram’s 300 million users, I wonder how many of those accounts are dedicated to food because I have no doubt that hours could be spend scrolling through the never ending stream of food photos. Been there, done that. Well not in one sitting but since I’ve been on Instagram I shudder to think about how many photos I’ve liked, drooled over, and have been inspired to recreate.