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!
Once upon a time when I still imagined my grown up life through rose tinted glasses, I entertained the idea of being a judge at some point of my legal career. Obviously life doesn’t always turn out as one imagines when they are twelve… And despite having the perfect name for it (Miss Law was regularly picked on during law school lectures) the chance of me becoming a judge of the legal variety now is zero. Zilch. Nada. Non-existent. Sorry Mum and Dad.
While that ship has sailed, my friends at Zomato must have had an inkling that my twelve year old self had a dream… They couldn’t fast track me through the judicial elite, but they were still able to make me a judge. No issues of precedent or sticky interpretations of statute to mull over, I, along with a panel of ‘learned friends’ (still a bit of a law geek), would be mulling four shortlisted restaurants to pick the best of the lot. Oh yes, this is the kind of judgment I take great pleasure in delivering!
If you’ve had the pleasure (modest much?) of talking to me in the last month, you would have also had the misfortune of hearing me whinge about being stuck. Stuck in London while everyone else seems to be jet setting off on exciting city breaks or relaxing beach holidays. Stuck without any exciting plans of our own and not even being to make any as we don’t know when we’ll be able to leave the country again. Being stuck kind of sucks. For those of you who don’t know, we’ve handed our passports over to the Home Office, hoping, begging, praying that they’ll give me a new visa, letting me stay past my current ‘get out of Britain’ date of early December.
When we first parted ways with them we were optimistic for a faster turnaround time than the six months they quoted, but now almost four months later, I think it’s safe to say we’re just hoping it’s not more than six months. It hasn’t been all bad though, we’ve embraced being stuck and had some wonderful (food) adventures in Britain, spending a couple of weekends in Cambridge and Brighton, and a longer weekend in Yorkshire. But I just want to go somewhere else… a place where the language is not one I speak, the wine is cheap, and people there live for their food.
Do you remember your first time? Or maybe you’ve never even tried it before…
I remember mine; my hands were getting a bit warm which is less than ideal, my eyes darted around the room searching for reassurance, I was starting to get nervous. Anxious thoughts went through my mind at every step- is it supposed to be this sticky? Am I holding it too tight? Should I give it a squeeze when I’m done? But in the end I needn’t have worried, my first attempt resulted in a pretty passable roll of sushi.
A couple of weeks on and I still remember that moment fondly… none of the embarrassment usually related to first times (like those rock-resembling bread rolls or the raw in the middle but burnt on top lasagne) this was surprisingly triumphant and stress free! Given my love of sushi, which I’ve proclaimed to you at least once or twice before, I’m ashamed to say I’ve never really got my hands dirty and made my own so when the food-loving folk at Zomato invited me to their latest Zomato Meetup, a sushi-making class at Kuriya Keiko, I cleared the diary. Coincidentally, this meetup was another first for me but was far less daunting because what’s not to love about spending an evening with other food fanatics who don’t bat an eyelid at taking five shots of that plate of sushi from all angles.