Growing up with two brothers, you have to learn to eat fast or go hungry. Their fork already hovering over my plate, spearing the last morsel that I was saving until last, I’d hear the words “are you gonna eat that”. YES, I WAS. Arghhhh. Gone, before I could even think about a counter tackle. I thought about eating all my meals with the steak knifes we saved for best, just in case of a plate intrusion, but this didn’t go down too well with the mother, they weren’t dishwasher safe, you see. It made any sharing based restaurants a complete no no, the buffet on the other hand, well that was our save haven, an argument free zone.
Now that I have flown the nest you’d think my eating habits would have changed, I would amble over my dinner with a relaxed grace, safe in the knowledge that my plate was free from attack. Incorrect. I still seem to eat way faster than most of my dining companions. This can lead to all manner of strange looks and assumptions and is one of the reasons I avoid the first date dinner scenario. Eating on a first date is nothing short of hell. Why does anyone put themselves through that minefield?
Speaking of dates, when people find out what I do they seem to develop a fear of sharing any kind of food based scenario with me. They assume I must be super critical, eat only the finest produce or some other ridiculous notion. Incorrect, again. While I love cooking with fresh, seasonal produce I am also partial to a bit of trash; spaghetti hoops, always when hungover, chip shop chips with close to a bottle of malt vinegar on top (why do restaurants give you balsamic vinegar with your chips, I mean, really??) pickled onion monster munch and my particular favourite, the Munchie. I always carry a pack in my handbag (it’s true, feel free to bag raid).
I might love food- but I’m not a food snob. So any potential dates out there, feel free to feed me, just not on date one, and whatever you do, DO NOT ask me what my signature dish is, especially if there is a steak knife around….