Menu listed as comfort foods
Supper, this evening, can be described as comfort food. Although I didn’t actually prep things, I did babysit the big pot all afternoon. A slowly simmered masterpiece, known under a number of names: stew; boiled dinner; beef with veggies. And it was very good. Hot, like anything taken directly from the boiling pot. But, very good. Healthy. The kind of supper that is needed, just as we head into winter.
I’m not nostalgic about meals; going back to fried fish and boiled potatoes, meals have always been there to sustain me. No fancy frills. As you can guess, I wasn’t brought up with a multi-page menu, ever. That’s why I was able to accept close to a decade of steam-line food, when others were wondering aloud how anybody survived “in residence”. For me, it was easy. Show up, fill my tray, bring the utensils back to the washup window and get on with my day.
Someone wrote that the surest sign of adulthood is being able to prepare your own food, every day, for the rest of your life. True! And even if we’re now shopping under a cloud, wearing masks, we’re still getting on. Which reminds me: soon need some more cinn-buns (breakfast, seven days a week).
When we moved here (the country) we tried to upscale: weekend breakfasts at a local diner. That establishment burned down, last year, and I haven’t splurged on bacon and eggs in what feels like ages. Hey, maybe this weekend. In my own kitchen, of course, as long as the local vixen hasn’t scored all of the eggs.
