Good God. The crackling, the fat soaked potatoes, the baked pear, the sprouts and peas….what a dinner (the awkward lap picture doesn’t do it justice).
Yet again, it was a perfectly terrible day to do a roast – up to 38 degrees Celsius with a bitch of a dry, hot wind blowing all day. So, we ate outside to escape the oven-toasty apartment.
Both my roomies pitched in with the preparation of this beast of a roast and we enjoyed the luxury of using the dishwasher because we created such a mess.
There’s a very different feeling to cooking for and eating with others than there is to creating a masterpiece of food together. Senses of achievement and comradery are greater, while the feelings of giving lesser. Either way, the sweaty, sleepless night was made better by a good meal, better friends and a couple of beers.