I have been cooking for myself and others for around twenty five years.
Cooking for me, whether it's a quick soup lunch or a nice slow evening experiment seems to be the way I relax.
Others play soccer or something strange with balls. I was born without the sports gene so I do other things with my balls.
Some happy peeps spend their time eating out or just being out. My profession of musician has kept me out enough thank you. Though it has to be sad if there is any extra cash around one of favourite activities is eating in a restaurant. But these days if I am going to spend money on eating food that someone else has made and wants me to pay for it, like going to a concert or the opera, I like to feel I am eating something I would have a job to better at home.
I have developed a real distaste for fast food like we see so much of these days be it a burger joint or these horrid chicken places where they serve tasteless battery produced chicken bits covered in revolting oily crud and stale luke warm chips in a cardboard box. Does nobody taste this crap?
I can announce that last week in Bergen in Norway I had the second worst Macdonald I have ever had, the first being in Rotherham in 1992. I had no idea what it was in the hard skin of batter that was squidged in between two soggy bits of white shitbread along with ancient, wrinkled lettuce and something else vaguely green.
Everything tasted of cardboard anyway. And they serve this to our kids and wonder why...
A dona kebab, with all it's gelatin and grease, sad crinkled tasteless onions and heat-less chillies, with it's indescribable white sauces and gut slushing chilli sauces squished up in a soggy pita bag is utterly gorgeous at two in the morning in gut pre-lined with beer but sober, it is utterly disgusting.
To be continued.
