1. I rarely take photographs of food, because by the time I think about getting my camera out, I’ve already eaten it. But on the upside, my food is always hot (unless it’s not supposed to be). Such as this lovely Lebanese meal I had recently in London. Grilled chicken, flatbreads, halloumi cheese, and baba ghanouj for dipping. I think it’s baba ghanouj, but that might have been the name of a band I saw in Greece. Or maybe that was imam baildi?
2. I can cook pretty well, but the things I cook rarely look pretty enough to bother taking pictures of them. However if the food tastes good, I don’t really care. So, here’s a rare photo of some haggis, neeps, and tatties from the Burns supper I had last month. I’m sorry that you only get to see the cold leftovers in a tupperware tub. But it was YUMMY.
3. I maintain a healthy mistrust of most vegetables. Growing up in the north of Scotland, choice was pretty limited; cabbage, kale, parsnips and carrots. Oh, and neeps*. Christmas dinner had potatoes served TWO different ways – roasties and mash. Perhaps cauliflower cheese for a special meal. I don’t think I’d heard of celeriac until I was in my 20s, let alone eaten it.
4. I’m pretty happy to eat what I’m given, and not really know what’s in it or how it made. I really don’t mind. I once ate a mystery meat kebab that someone passed through the bus window to me in Ghana. It was LUSH. And that’s baba ghanouj? Hmmm, mushy. That’s ok. And is it baba ghanouj or baba ghanoush? Does it matter so much? Let’s all enjoy our hummous/ hummus/ hoummos together.
5. I don’t think I’ve eaten anything that couldn’t be improved with the addition of a massive dollop of horseradish sauce. ANYTHING. Plus, I hate washing up far more than I love cooking.