Monday, 23 May 2011

Would you like wine with that?

I am in danger of liking cooking. Anyone who knows me is now rolling on the floor laughing. OK, so in the past I may have hinted that (a) cooking is not my favourite pastime (b) it is not a skill I excel in and (c) should only be endured whilst accompanied by wine (which I may occasionally add to the food).

But recently, I have begun to enjoy preparing food for dinner parties. I will concede that the eating, chatting and drinking bit is still more enjoyable than the cooking part but nevertheless, and I am choking on the words here, I like it. And, what is more bizarre, is that my friends like it too - my food I mean. They actually eat it and make those 'hmmm' noises. Perhaps they go home and cry, lamenting the terrible endurance test of eating my food, but they are good actors if they do.

As cooks go, I am messy. I can hear my maid tutting when she hears the pans rattling in the kitchen, wondering what disaster she will find when I have finally exhausted my culinary curiosity. The cat, if I had one, would scurry away in fear of its life. The children, ever stalwart in their innocence, will pop into the kitchen, sniff the pots and pans, dip a finger in and pronounce the verdict.

Is this new found hobby a result of getting older? Am I  in danger of becoming my mother or my mother in law? Or God forbid, Delia Smith???? No, it is the realisation that if I want to eat decent food in my own home, cookery is a skill best mastered!


  1. Oh Louise! You and me both. Not the cooking part, I've always been into that. But yesterday I found myself in a garden centre. I know. And what's more, I bought compost, seeds and a couple of planter thingies. And then, rather than leaving them in a corner to moulder, I took them home, planted them up, watered them, stood them on my windowsill and sighed, yes sighed, with gratification. There is no hope.

  2. I'm with you Louise. Also like cooking, although these days one meal a day is my maximum. Sod Delia though, try the Women's Weekly cookbooks (sounds ghastly, bloody brilliant) or the Silver Spoon, which is the essential Italian culinary bible.

    Might well be getting older, but I stand proud in remaining allergic to garden centres. In fact, I once killed a cactus. No, Alpha has the green thumb in our abode, thank God.