I am in a very bad mood. I won't bore you with the details because I don't want you to slip into a coma and die. But if I DID tell you the story you'd be like "Oh yeah that would put me in a really bad mood, too."
So I'm in this bad mood, and I'm raging my way back home, on the tube, off the tube, past the stupid Kentish Town Forum "No I don't want tickets to fucking Groove Armada, go away AND DIE!!!!!" And I stamped into the house after flicking a V sign at the horrible black cat who shits in our garden and aimed a kick at it, but it took off (I wasn't REALLY going to kick it) and threw off all my clothes until I was down to leggings and a vest and my apron and did two things.
1) I started to cook a stew (at 9.15pm at night)
2) Started to comfort eat
Both of these things were surprising to me. Most of the time, I feel like my role as a cook-foodie-person is completely bogus. I don't *really* know the first thing about food and couldn't give a rat's ass for bumming Borough market or finding a supplier for the most "marvellous BURRRRAAAAAATA darling" and at pretty much any time of the day if you said to me "Shall we go to McDonald's" I'd say "Start the car, I'll go and put on some stretchy trousers."
But on the tube on the way home, raging away, all I wanted to do when I got home was to sit down with a large stack of cookbooks. Maybe make some pancakes. DEFINITELY do a stew with those lamb shanks before they get a bit tired. And it was then that I thought that maybe I'm not a total fraud. Again and again, I return to the stove. Not usually to eat, but to bash pans, chop, stir angrily, slide something into a roiling oven.
But then I started comfort eating aswell - a worrying turn of events. I don't comfort eat. Ever. I eat when I am hungry and stop when I'm not. I'll eat some chocolate because I fancy it. I never eat just because I'm pissed off - but I did tonight. FOUR BROWNIES. And a fifth isn't out of the realms of possibility. I wonder what it all means?
Anyway, I was supposed to make hot cross buns ages ago but keep being distracted by stupid pointless things that take up all my time and piss me off. And I've just looked at the recipe and I haven't got two really significant ingredients, so a flour-based celebration of the crucifixion and reurrection of Jesus Christ is just going to have to wait until I can get down to Waitrose for some mixed peel.
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