Welcome to my Food Orgy

So today’s blog is brought to you by my ultimate love for food. You think you like food? Even love it a little bit? I don’t think so. I constantly think of food. When I wake up I am thinking of breakfast, when I’ve immediately finished my breakfast, I think about what I am having for lunch and pretty much throughout the day at regular intervals I am looking forward to, planning out and day dreaming about my dinner. I dread to think about what I would actually look like if I didn’t have willpower. It is like an addiction. A daily struggle to overcome my constant craving for food.

Obviously I am not talking about fruit and vegetables. I am a self confessed salad dodger. Oh I eat it. But I do so with a silent loathing hatred of it. Who looks forward to eating that stuff? Well apparently some people do, but I was born lacking that particular hunter-gatherer berry picking gene. My obsession isn’t even with chocolate. Take it or leave it (although would rather take it obviously). My major downfall is cheese. Mmmmm cheeeessseeee. For any Family Guy fans out there, there is a scene where Chris gets into bed with Peter and Lois which explains my problem eloquently. I am Peter.

Cheese can literally be added to any dish and it will improve that meal. Ok, I’m not talking about grating parmesan on your cornflakes, that would be ridiculous (the flavours don’t work by the way, a mature cheddar is the way to go with breakfast cereals). What? Don’t judge me. I only did it once. Ok maybe twice. But most of the food experiments I have conducted are successful and taste awesome by the way, as well as relying on the old favourites too. Cheesy chips.  Steak with blue cheese sauce. Chicken stuffed with mozzarella. Cheese on Toast. Melted tuna and cheese panini. Jacket potato with baked beans and cheese. Any pasta dish you can think of, Lasagne, Carbonara, Spaghetti Bolognese, Cannelloni…..all improved the more cheese you add to it. Whoever decided to bake Camembert deserves a nobel prize. And then you have the trusted old friend, the classic, the reliable, cheese and biscuits. Get in my face. An assortment of Carrs water biscuits and at least 8 different cheeses to choose from. Spoolsh. It’s a good job I’m not lactose intolerant. It would literally kill me. No, it actually would, as I wouldn’t stop eating it, I would just make up all my favourite dishes, lay them out on a big long table and eat myself to death. Cheese myself to death. Death by cheese. There are worse ways to go.

Since meeting my other half I have discovered Greek food. I’m half Welsh and half Portuguese, an awesome combination which I refer to as Welsheguese. Now, the Portuguese aren’t famous for adding cheese to dishes. The Welsh do like a little bit of cheese in their food, Welsh Rarebit (yummers) and welsh (Glamorgan) sausages have cheese in them (hooray!). But the Greeks know how to eat their cheese. Halloumi? Weird salty rubbery looking cheese, when fried and sprinkled with lime juice – total mouthgasm. I have recently discovered Saganaki. Another Greek cheese in a cheesy crust, pan fried till it’s a heart attack on a plate. Amazing. They have little Feta cheese filo parcels, a macaroni cheese dish called Patitsio and Moussaka, yeah that’s got cheese in it too. There are lots more but I won’t bore you. Turns out I think somewhere on my Welsh side, there may be some Greek blood from a distant relative somewhere-I knew it! It was meant to be.

Now, today is Pancake day. Shrove Tuesday. For those who don’t know, it is a day preceding Ash Wednesday (the first day of Lent) and traditionally people partake in the consumption of indulgent food (in this case pancakes) before one sacrifices these things for forty days and forty nights, as Jesus famously did. It is one of my favourite times of the year. We have bacon and cheese pancakes for starters, followed by nutella/syrupy pancakes for dessert. I generally feel sick by the end of it, but it’s totally worth it. One year when I was a kid, I went to my friend Samantha’s house for pancake day and stayed the night. I ate so many pancakes that day I was sick. Her mum will tell you how this green sickly looking creature spoilt her night by having one of the worst tummy aches/sickness bouts in history. I tell my boyfriend this story every year. He’s probably as sick of that story as I was that night. But dammit he will have to listen to it again, because this year he broke the cardinal rule. He is not here for pancake day. He is currently in Scotland on his brother’s stag do and won’t get back till midnight. This made me Hangry. Hungry and angry at the same time. It’s not a good look. He promised me we would be able to re-live pancake day on Wednesday, but it won’t be the same. I could have pancake day by myself, but I don’t want to, this is our tradition every year and I don’t like change.

So pancake people, enjoy your crepey goodness and think of me having my tuna and cheese (obvs) jacket potato, hating every one of you for devouring your pancakes without me. Enjoy!

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