|My roast dinner
As a born and bred New Zealander I was brought up on roasts with lashings of gravy. I would mound my plate high and happily devour the lot, including crunching on any pork crackling. I was one of five children and my mother said she'd never seen a child eat everything with such finger-licking enjoyment. Even the vegetables would be shovelled down with enthusiasm.
I was eventful right from my early days, with food fuelling my adventures and also acting as a homing beacon. No matter how far I roamed the scent of a good roast dinner would bring me running back to the table.
Until recently, I harboured a secret. I had never made a roast dinner. Well, why bother I thought, when I could just talk my way into eating them? If I kept on having adventures, then maybe my tales of 'derring do' would sufficiently entertain to keep the invitations coming. However, I could hardly 'buckle my swash' if word got about that a so-called Eventful Woman didn't know how to make a momentous roast dinner and was terrified at the thought of it. Domesticity is not my scene.
A good friend decided to take me in hand and protect my reputation. She promised to stand alongside of me, provide step-by-step instructions and would fortify me with wine along the way. The company of a friend, wine and a roast lamb dinner was an unbeatable offer.
Coating the meat ©Eventful Woman
The meat was placed reverently into the oven and we started on the veges. Far from being the No. 1 chef in this kitchen, I was relegated to galley slave and had to peel my way through several potatoes, kumara (sweet potato) and a pumpkin.
It wasn't until I had basted the meat a few times and had started to roast the potatoes in the electric fry pan that I was promoted to second chef. This meant that I was allowed my first glass of wine.
Making progress ©Eventful Woman
While broccoli was spinning in the microwave, I was finally promoted to No.1 chef and allowed to carve the meat. This involved one slice for the plate and one for me. The supervising chef worried that there wouldn't be enough meat for the diners, and I was demoted to waitress - only allowed to carry plates to the table but NOT eat as I went. Spoil sport!
At last all was ready on the table. TH (the husband) was summoned and told to clap appreciatively. I thought he was a bit half-hearted compared with my genuine applause whenever I'm presented with a tasty meal.
Then we settled to the really serious task of eating. Tasty, juicy slices of roast lamb, a mound of roast and green veges and a river of gravy. YUM!
YUMMY ©Eventful Woman
My friend and No.1 chef provided me with written instructions and I'll be able to repeat my 'feat' again. A roast dinner will be just perfect for winter evenings at home with TH, in front of a blazing fire. Hopefully, the blaze won't be from the whole kitchen going up in smoke.