If asked my family will tell you I am a decent cook. In truth I have learnt to make a few meals well enough to fool everyone in to believing that I know what I am doing. Mrs M gave me the ultimate compliment a few days ago when she said that she generally prefers to eat my food than what we have when we eat out. I need to point out, however, that she only said this in response to the pressure I was giving her to make a decision about what she wanted from the menu at a local Indian restaurant. It seems that it is the quality of my food that has made it almost impossible for her to make a speedy decision.
When it comes to choosing a curry my wife and I have different approaches. Mrs M goes for the relative safety of a fairly mild option, whereas I like a dish that will put up something of a fight. When the food arrives we do the husband and wife thing of trying each other’s dishes only to return to our own version of the perfect curry.
I do tend to avoid the infamous Vindaloo these days normally stating the apocryphal story that it is not authentically Asian and was only made to placate the often drunk British punter, who wanted a hotter dish than was normally available, to feed his larger fuelled hunger. Whether or not Vindaloo means ‘the one with the potato’, said to have been used to distinguish it from other dishes, I no longer choose to eat it.
In truth it is too hot for me these days and tends to bring on both an attack of perspiration and the threat of tears. Don’t think, however, that I have stopped liking spicy food altogether.
At home I will occasionally make a chilli that contains fire and usually the family appreciate it in silence. It is one of those dishes that stops you worrying about the general pressures of life by firmly locating you in the moment.
If it were not for the possibility of indigestion it would be perfect to get rid of one’s thoughts just before you go to sleep. Or perhaps it would work as breakfast in order to remove any potential worries for the day.
It would certainly be better than the rabbit food that Mrs M usually makes me eat. I recently tried to protest about this produce by suggesting that now I am over fifty some of its contents are a little too hard for my teeth.
Unfortunately my bride bought me some porridge as an alternative but this is even worse than the rabbit food. Firstly, it takes more effort than I am willing to expend on a breakfast that doesn’t contain bacon. Secondly, it is only a healthy option if you refrain from adding sugar or honey, or indeed anything else that would make it taste of anything palatable.
On reflection the porridge does have something in common with my hot chilli; both them have the ability to distract you from the worries of the day. One by filling your mouth with fire; the other by filling your life with boredom and your mouth with wallpaper paste.
Hot Chilli
Breakfast
Much to my wife’s bemusement I have spent the best part of my life avoiding the need to eat breakfast on a regular basis. I just don’t wake up hungry. Even when the girls were young, and I had the pleasure of arranging four different bowls of cereal, I was never tempted to join them.
I suppose it is because I have certain beliefs about the first meal of the day that have been, up until now, unshakeable.
Firstly, breakfast isn’t breakfast unless it contains bacon. I once heard someone in a hotel ask for a Full English without bacon. I wanted to walk across the room and tell them that they were asking the impossible.
Secondly, I have never heard a conversation about cereal that had the word ‘tasty’ in it. My wife has tried to convince me to try muesli and other cereals but she talks about them being ‘healthy’ or ‘good for your constitution’, none of which makes me want to get involved in such morning food.
The other phrase she uses, as if it has any serious meaning, is that ‘breakfast is the most important meal of the day’ to which I reply ‘well if it is it should definitely include bacon then’.
So it is that I very rarely have breakfast; except on holiday or special occasions when I will have a proper Full English.
For years I have maintained that I have seen no detrimental effect due to missing this morning nosh session. Then one day my wife returned from a training session as part of her job as a Practice Nurse; the subject, Healthy Eating.
I always fear these occasions because she will come home with ideas that she wants to test on me. I have had blood taken, diabetes tests, my heart rate monitored, breathing capacity tests and now I was faced with a survey of my eating habits.
After she had again ‘tutted’ at my avoidance of breakfast she quizzed me about my dinner habits.
‘I eat my sandwich at 9:15am’, I said not realising the significance of my words.
‘But that almost makes it breakfast’, uttered my bride in desperation.
‘No it doesn’t because I don’t have bacon with it’, I offered with impeccable reasoning.
Things went further down hill when she asked about my fruit intake for the day. She seemed all too eager to discount banana milkshake and a chocolate orange.
Eventually convinced that change was needed I agreed to start the redevelopment my eating plan by trying a number of cereals. The type I liked the most (either chocolate covered or sugar coated) were immediately banned as if my enjoyment of food was unhealthy. The variety I didn’t like all seemed to be made of wood shavings but were apparently good for me.
I finally found one that was bearable and decided to try it every day in an attempt at keeping my wife happy and hopefully losing a few pounds. One week in and I can report that it is just so very boring and I have come to the conclusion that I need more variety in order to sustain my interest.
Daughter number two (who had spent almost a year in the States) had informed me that it was not unusual for breakfast to include sausages AND maple syrup on the same plate. Now if it had some additional bacon it might be a good alternative.
Daughter number four added that in France they tend to just have croissants and jam as a lighter alternative, but this just seems like pretending to enjoy food; surely it is just posh jam and bread.
So what am I to do; I don’t really like cereal but my wife says that I need to eat breakfast every day in order to be healthy. What about bacon in a croissants; now I like the sound of that; OK its not a Full English, more a Part English, Part French.
