The days, they are getting shorter, and (as my shorts-in-10C-weather-wearing-friend would say) more “fresh”.
I prefer to term it “cold! Oh-so-cold!” myself.
And so it is, in these nippier climates, that thoughts turn to warming soups. Hearty stews. Butter-and-cream mashed potatoes and slow cooked joints of meat. And, of course, that dish that has so ubiquitously become known as “spag bol”.
(…or how I made peace with a fish.)
I get nervous about fish.
They don’t seem to like me.
Perhaps someone told them about the time I managed to kill ten goldfish in a single year. I didn’t mean to – they’d be swimming around happily one day, and then two weeks later…
(Interestingly, when I handed over the fish-rearing-reigns to my father, the pair we had at the time lived for ten years. Until I was left to watch them for two weeks.)
And perhaps, just maybe, my fish-rearing-skills have left me slightly damaged. Unable to cook much more than a fillet of salmon (sear skin side down, wait… wait… flip, sear, serve) or instant fish fingers (roll onto oven tray, bake, eat soggy fish fingers because-I-suck-at-instant-food).
Until now.
I’m not very good at cooking for two.
I’ve tried, believe me, I’ve tried – but I always end up with either one and a half serves (leaving someone rather hungry), or enough to feed a family of six. Football players. While they’re in their carb & protein loading stage. Meaning I have enough food left over to feed me (a non-football playing carbo & protein loading person) for a week.
So I’ve decided to learn. …continue reading C4T: mostly-vegetarian soup
