Dinner used to consume my thoughts through the day. What will we have? Where will I shop on the way home? Will Allan eat it? Will I want to photograph it? What’s everyone else making – maybe a little inspiration would help.
Fast forward. We arrive home, exhausted, brains whirring from the day, both starving and with no intention of cooking or any idea of what to have – assuming we even have food in the house. The times, they have changed. Dinner has become less of a romantic endeavour that I pour myself into all day, every day, and more of what I imagine it is for normal people – a pain in the ass at time, something to shut everyone up and fill your tummies with as much goodness as possible based on what little food you have in the fridge.