Some people aren’t into food. They eat whatever just to sustain life, not really caring about taste. There are times as I’ve yo-yo’d up and down the scale that I wish I was one of those people but I’m just not. It’s got to be good though. I can easily turn my back on bad food, so there’s got to be some quality involved. For the most part I am not at all interested in partaking in any of the birthday treats people here bring in when their big day rolls around. Usually this means that they went to the local grocery store and bought a boxed cake, similar to maybe Entennmens in the U.S. I hate to compare some of this stuff to Entennmens though because the Entennmens cheese danish is a thing of beauty, where some of this stuff is just dry cake with waxy frosting. Last week someone sent a message around to all saying for no special occasion they had picked up one of these cakes and we could all help ourselves in the kitchen, oh and I guess as a disclaimer they added that the cake was past its expiration date. Why spend the money? Why consume the calories?
I mention this to H after someone we know bought frozen sandwiches for a party. Get this, there is a store here that sells tuna salad sandwiches in plain white bread, cut in fourths and frozen for fun at a later date. I don’t understand this at all. There are some things that are just automatically going to taste better if made fresh from scratch and there’s not much effort needed to make this happen. Not only is this criticism about taste but my mother’s practical voice rings in my head that this convenience food is not much of a convenience. When I was telling H about these sandwiches and how I would NEVER buy them, H stopped me and said, “We’re food snobs”. Are we? Maybe to some extent because as H has made things from scratch at home, I’ve realized that it’s worth taking the time sometimes. Roast chicken, I never realized how delicious simple roast chicken could be when cooked well. Last week I was at the store with L after our winter walk and she was trying to decide if she should by this off brand of boxed mashed potatoes because her usual brand was sold out. She looked at me for advice and I couldn’t offer any but to buy some real potatoes, especially since it was for dinner with guests.
Thursday night after I got home late and still had a mountain of work to do and two more conference calls, and an A-related crisis (well to her it was), I needed comfort food. I peeled a sweet potato, wedged it, threw the wedges in a bowl and drizzled a little olive oil, sea salt, and smoked paprika and mixed. Threw that on a cookie sheet and baked and there’s dinner! If you burn them slightly I think it tastes like burnt marshmallows which takes me back to childhood and one of my favourite treats. When I told H this the first time I unintentionally burned them he said that sounded disgusting. Food snob, maybe just a little bit, but I think a true food snob would throw Thursday night’s dinner in the bin.