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….
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