It was 28 degrees celsius in Fibrotown today. Summer in autumn. Clearly I did not read the weather forecast when, on Sunday, I came up with my meal plan and shopping list for the weekly shop. I do this, you know. It’s the only vaguely organised thing I manage.
On Sunday, it was raining and I was wearing a flannel shirt. Comfort clothing. So I planned a whole week of comfort food. I love winter food. I love slow-cooked, succulent stews. Ambrosial casseroles. Pies. Roasts. I love the way they taste. I love the way they make you feel when you eat them. I love the fact that you almost always get leftovers with winter meals, meaning you cook once and eat twice. Especially love that.
Which is how we came to be eating Beef and Red Wine Casserole, on mashed potato, on a balmy autumnal evening. I’m sick of summer food. Sick to death of lettuce and tomato and capsicum and cucumber. Sick of trying to think of a useful protein to put with such ephemeral fare and wondering how to get some carbs in there to make my boys feels like they’ve eaten something that touched the sides.
But, as I sat there, sweating, shovelling down mouthfuls of piping hot casserole, I had only one thought in mind:
I peaked too early.
I’m thinking an Asian chicken salad tomorrow night.
Are you a winter food aficionado or a summer salad slave?