Last night my cooking pride took a hard knock. After fogging the kitchen and undercooking the peri-peri chicken (yet somehow blackening the outside) I spent the rest of the night in a funk of failure.
I realised that cooking is not just about pleasure for me, it's my my stress-balancer, my pride, my comfort blanket, my THING.
If ever I was faced by Sir Alan (Lord, he's a Lord now isn't he?) and his minions, forget writing and web-tinkering, I'd profile myself as someone passionate about food. Now THAT I can really get excited about.
This blog is my attempt at joining those skills together. If only I could get paid for this, life would be sweet. AHEM - open to offers...
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