When I get home from work, I always have that dreaded question in my head, and like clockwork, the question will be asked. It’s one of life’s mysteries, and one we all ponder on a daily basis.
Question: What’s for dinner?
Answer: I don’t know what’s for dinner.
Why am I the gatekeeper of the fridge? The only one who can dictate what we are having for dinner tonight?
Why is it my job?
Meal planning is a great idea. In principle. However, I can’t help but feel a contestant on masterchef being given a box of mystery ingredients to cook with (such as pasta, tinned peaches, chopped tomatoes, half a knobbly courgette, 5 day old hummous and a slightly soft onion) most nights.
Or, I plan meals and then find out someone else has eaten one of the essential ingredients.
OR, I spend hours cooking something amazing and exciting and then NOBODY LIKES IT apart from me.
OR, I run out of all energy and end up chewing on a piece of celery* all evening.
The rage boils up inside and I feel like throwing the lot on the floor snd screaming ‘Well YOU make something then!’
The worst comments for others to make at dinner time, and cause possible rage are:
“I don’t like this”
“I wanted chilli not curry!” (or whatever it is, when you didn’t say that)
“My mum made this much nicer”
“It’s a bit well done”
“I’m a bit fed up of broccoli”
“It’s too watery”
“What is this?”
“I was going to eat it but I’ve just ordered a Dominos”
or, my favourite: “It’s alright”
(what, pray tell, does “alright” mean? is it good or bad? is it mediocre? is it just something you say when your manic over heated partner has thrown a plate of food at you?!)
Well, I’ve started to fight back. I tell people it’s their turn to cook. I decided it’s time they have to think, use their brain, and chop vegetables (apart from my partner who tells me he can’t chop vegetables?!) and devise a meal suitable for everyone as soon as they walk through the door.
This experiment has resulted in:
– nothing being cooked
– pasta, pasta, pasta
-some nice meals cooked by my sister
– every implement, pot and crockery being used and the kitchen looking like it’s been through the apocalypse
So to try and prevent scurvy from being reintroduced into my family, I have had to admit defeat, and start actually cooking again. I really want to eat more than pasta. Starting Slimming world has helped my momentum, as now I really do need to cook properly in order to lose weight.
I do have a vague meal plan in my head, and I have plenty of ingredients so that I can hopefully make something quick and easy. I dusted off my clow cooker (again, I am the only one that uses it!) and have made some very nice things in it too, with minimal effort.
So basically, if they don’t like healthy low fat meals, they know what they can do*.
*order a takeaway, ahem.