Three days home alone and dad finally decides maybe he should cook something. Day 1: left-over takeaway. Day 2: fried egg and bread. Day 3: we can’t go on like this. Admittedly, if it was just me, we’d still be on bread and honey. I can’t be bothered cooking for myself.
Time to get creative. Naturally, it’s going to be a staple student recipe. If our lad wants proper cooking, he should have gone with his mum.
Anything I make must begin with an onion, chopped and diced. Then sautéed, of course. It’s all coming back to me now.
Peppers, courgettes, tomatoes to follow.
What I thought was tomato puree turned out to be cherry marmalade. Might win an award for creativity on Masterchef, but I decided to give it a miss. Sweet pepper puree would have to supplement, though this bottle required two pairs of hands to open.
I’m not a bad cook really. I’ve just become extremely lazy. Back home, I’ve been relegated to stir-fry duties alone. It’s hard to find the motivation when your other half is such a good cook. And, well, when you’re a really lazy bum.
Anyway, this is a matter of survival. Our lad is complaining of stomach ache, which he’s blaming on pide two nights ago. Personally, I’d blame the unripe plums he keeps guzzling from the tree. But what do I know?
He insists on capturing evidence for mum to prove we’re not living like slobs while she’s preoccupied in her village. Actually, I’m not being slobbish at all. I’ve washed up after myself, cleaned the kitchen and am generally maintaining order.
Don’t blame the boy for tucking in straight away. It’s his first proper meal since Monday. Mine too. Eat and be merry. It’s quite tasty, even if I do say so myself.