Punk Rock Cookery

Since Maria’s gone, I’m free (and please note that this is not necessarily a positive use of the word ‘free’) to eat badly.  She has been discipling me in culinary quality, while I turn toast into an Olympic sport.

Last night, I slightly over-compensated by making one of the greatest meals ever: almost entirely composed of out-of-date ingredients.  This is living on the edge – when you have to pray over your food cos you know that it should really be in the bin (or in the dog, if we had a dog).  Left-over this and out-of-date that, with a little bit of couscous that has been lying in the cupboard undisturbed for a few months, and what do you know?  It was AMAZING.  So good that, instead of saving some for today’s lunch, I ate for two and had to go and walk it off …

When life leads you in search of thrills, O Reader, should they not begin at the dinner table?  My bottom may come to regret these decisions, but my soul (and tastebuds) rejoice.


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