You know what? It’s a good thing for all the Blokes Wot Live Here that I can cook. And that I don’t mind (usually) doing it. Because if I didn’t, OMG. I hate to think. There’d be gnawing on furniture perhaps. Or maybe performances worthy of wee Oliver, complete with eyes the size of dinnerplates, asking forlornly for “More, please?” Or more likely, our freezers would be packed with the kinds of processed foods that Jamie Oliver would have a coronary over.
Like a lot of blokes, if mine have to do more than rip open the packet or open a tin and heat the contents, it’s all much too hard. There are NO mini-Jamie’s living in this house. Not yet anyway. I wonder if Jamie’s newest child, a son, Buddy Bear Maurice (Google it… that’s what they called him, truly ruly) will follow in his Dad’s footsteps. Possibly not, as a way of getting back at his parents for their choice of name, lol.
I know I’m a good cook (many thanks to the Groovy Grandma for all her recipes over the years!) but am not racing off to apply to Masterchef or anything. Oh, ploise. *laughs at the bizarre notion* Seriously, as much as I’d love to meet the Gregarious Gourmets of the Masterchef World, there’s no way I’d put myself through the meat grinder of reality TV for the nation’s entertainment, thanks very much. You’d be much better served by snagging an invite to dinner at our house. *g*
But back to my point, my lucky Blokes. Having me. In my kitchen. When you live with a household of blokes there are a few things that are guaranteed:
1. Food and especially GOOD food — one of the prime motivators of the male species. If they aren’t looking to hunt it down, trap it and tear it apart, they’re actually eating it and thinking about the next time they’ll get to do just that.
2. Shopping — of the food/grocery variety. I’m out there gathering supplies on a regular basis. Really regular basis. I often joke to people that one day I’ll buy shares in Coles/Woolworths/Aldi… because I seem to spend so much time and an absolute fortune there! It seems never-ending sometimes. The way we’re going, I’ll end up needing to buy half a cow when we have a barbecue. And that’ll be a problem…FFS, the trolley won’t be big enough.
3. Anything sweet is HEAVEN on earth — make a dessert for after dinner and you will have them in the palm of your hand. My boys are all very partial to something sweet and I figure if I make it, it’ll have less food additives in it and also taste loads nicer. The power of a fruit crumble or lemon delicious cannot be underestimated!
So it’s just as well, really. And I do like knowing that they’re eating properly. Especially when Son #2 says to me, just before he cut himself another thick slab of homemade cake: “How come I’m hungry all the time, Mum? I just had dinner….” However, cue one satisfied smile as cake disappears. Hole in stomach filled, albeit temporarily.
Ahhh yes…. the joys of growing a Bloke. *g*