Last night’s vegetarian food-fest (prepared, cooked, eaten – half of it anyway – and washed-up afterwards by me, lest there be any misunderstandings) was a little overplanned.
Overplanned to the point that I couldn’t get the final constituent on my plate.
I should add that we rarely use ‘proper’ plates, instead we use kind of shallow, flatish, wideish breakfast bowl things. They look like this:
Anyway, the thing is with eating from bowls like this instead of proper plates, is that they fill up with food quickly.
This is a win because it means we eat less. It can also be a loss though, because last night it meant I couldn’t add the baked beans to my ‘plate’.
But only to my ‘plate’ because Soph isn’t a fan of the ‘Shepherd’s Pie, mange tout, broccoli, baked potato, gravy *and* baked beans’ treatment.
Which is weird, obv, because who wouldn’t want a topping of baked beans on a combo like that?
So I left the baked beans in the sospan (look, it’s a Welsh word and I say it the Welsh way. Humour me) and we cracked on with our food-and-Buffy fest.
Having tottered downstairs at 1.30am, just half an hour ago, I put the kettle on and looked at the poor, sad, dejected and lonely-looking baked beans.
Then my eyes fell upon one of the familiar, pink-coloured tubes that often sits nearby.
Let me tell you about a food-match made in Heaven, my friend.
Cold baked beans, scooped out of the sospan by, and devoured with, Prawn Cocktail-flavoured Pringles.
And washed down with a mug of hot tea.
So it might be 2am and I might be grumpily awake but I am, nevertheless, feeling very satisfied, in a foodie kind of way.