Food. Glorious food. It's odd how your mood can be improved by eating a certain food, or how - in the case of a bad meal you're expected to pay through the nose for - it can bring it straight back down. I had promised my fellow TASGers that I'd include a recipe on this post, but I'm rubbish. I'm hoping that perhaps there won't even be a need for one - my comfort food of choice, for when I'm feeling down and in need of cheering up (and haven't already decided to drink my troubles away) is really quite simple. It's the incredible, mouthwatering perfectly-partnered sausage and mash.
My love for this meal started at university, the first time I'd ever lived away from home. I was incredibly homesick for the first week, and the amount of time I spent on my own, in my room and feeling thoroughly depressed earned me the nickname 'Hermit'.
One of my housemates came to my rescue. I think i may have been a project of hers - I would be dragged kicking an screaming from my self-imposed exile whether I liked it or not. While I'm eternally grateful to her for this, I do also hold her solely responsible for yours truly being fined the princely sum of £25 for 'anti-social behaviour' some weeks later. Anyway, every Thursday night before Eastenders, we'd pick up enough sausages, spuds, onions and gravy to feed the five thousand. Except it would usually feed only three. It was, in part, bangers and mash that brought me out of my shell - ridiculous as that sounds.
Whenever I have it now I think of those drink-fuelled, fun-filled first terms of higher education and no matter what mood I'm in, I take comfort in the fact that the fun I had then can be repeated. That no matter how lost or lonely I feel, there are people out there who can chase away the dark clouds. It never fails to warm me up, restore my faith in humanity and turn my frown upside down. And then, more often that not, leave me full of regret at not preparing a normal-sized portion.
I leave you, this week, with a topical joke I noticed on somebody's Twitter that I know I saw but now can't find:
"I bought some pork sausages today from Sainsburys, they had a picture of Jamie Oliver on the packet. On the back it said 'prick with a fork'. You can't argue with that."
My love for this meal started at university, the first time I'd ever lived away from home. I was incredibly homesick for the first week, and the amount of time I spent on my own, in my room and feeling thoroughly depressed earned me the nickname 'Hermit'.
One of my housemates came to my rescue. I think i may have been a project of hers - I would be dragged kicking an screaming from my self-imposed exile whether I liked it or not. While I'm eternally grateful to her for this, I do also hold her solely responsible for yours truly being fined the princely sum of £25 for 'anti-social behaviour' some weeks later. Anyway, every Thursday night before Eastenders, we'd pick up enough sausages, spuds, onions and gravy to feed the five thousand. Except it would usually feed only three. It was, in part, bangers and mash that brought me out of my shell - ridiculous as that sounds.
Whenever I have it now I think of those drink-fuelled, fun-filled first terms of higher education and no matter what mood I'm in, I take comfort in the fact that the fun I had then can be repeated. That no matter how lost or lonely I feel, there are people out there who can chase away the dark clouds. It never fails to warm me up, restore my faith in humanity and turn my frown upside down. And then, more often that not, leave me full of regret at not preparing a normal-sized portion.
I leave you, this week, with a topical joke I noticed on somebody's Twitter that I know I saw but now can't find:
"I bought some pork sausages today from Sainsburys, they had a picture of Jamie Oliver on the packet. On the back it said 'prick with a fork'. You can't argue with that."
PS You may have notice the lack of embarrassing photo. It's on its way, I promise. I left it on my work computer - but trust me, it's bad enough to make the wait worthwhile.
Edit 25.11.10 - Please see hideous photo of me, avec saucisson, below.
LOL. Poor Jaime Oliver! He really does get picked on... but it's much too hilarious to stop.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you got dragged out kicking and screaming. I've done that to a few people- and it's been done to me a fair number of times. What's the 25 quid story?
x
Bangers & Mash - good choice. I'll forgive you for not including a recipe. If you can cook sausage and mash potatos, a recipe ain't gonna help you.
ReplyDeleteI like Jamie Oliver :(
Can't cook* not "can" - bloody hell - I hate typos!
ReplyDeleteExcellent photo Tom!
ReplyDeleteI love sausages and mash potatoes but what improves my mood, as you know, is ice cream.
ReplyDeleteOh. Okay, and coffee.
And again, I love that picture.
@ Risha - I've emailed re: the £25 fine. It's not something I'm proud of. And yes, Jamie Oliver baiting is too much fun.
ReplyDelete@ Allison - I like him too! At times. He's just everywhere. He's always in my face!
@ Gnetch - ice cream and coffee - do you ever talk about anything else? I'm only joking - I know they are very important to you. As are sausages, to me.