homelessness breeds contempt for the finer things in life. i haven't cooked in years. my repertoire of boring pasta dishes and tuna sandwiches has contracted if anything, and i've become so complacently reliant on eating out and filling up on fast food that i've come close to entirely forgetting the deep spiritual satisfaction that comes from cooking for yourself.
perhaps i should write "oneself" as that would clarify how obnoxiously privileged i just sounded. truth be told i've been homeless partly to stay afloat and partly because i'm too much of a dick to cope with living with anyone other than my parents occasoinally, and anyone else who'll have me for thanklessly brief periods of time.
perhaps i should write "oneself" as that would clarify how obnoxiously privileged i just sounded. truth be told i've been homeless partly to stay afloat and partly because i'm too much of a dick to cope with living with anyone other than my parents occasoinally, and anyone else who'll have me for thanklessly brief periods of time.
and if i sound like a spoilt shit, well… yeah. go figure.
also, "deep spiritual satisfaction"--am i kidding? well, it always takes me by surprise. even a crispy little piece of cheese on toast made well makes me glow from the inside out. this is a bit like the genteel middle classes rediscovering the joys of allotment farming, or owning a house-pig, and it definitely tends towards the behaviour of oafs like the prince of wales lecturing town planners on the demerits of cheap, affordable housing--ie, a deadly mix of privileged ignorance and high-minded arrogance.
but so fucking what. i think, on a more prosaic level, it just happens to be a treat for me. especially when i have someone to cook with.
also, "deep spiritual satisfaction"--am i kidding? well, it always takes me by surprise. even a crispy little piece of cheese on toast made well makes me glow from the inside out. this is a bit like the genteel middle classes rediscovering the joys of allotment farming, or owning a house-pig, and it definitely tends towards the behaviour of oafs like the prince of wales lecturing town planners on the demerits of cheap, affordable housing--ie, a deadly mix of privileged ignorance and high-minded arrogance.
but so fucking what. i think, on a more prosaic level, it just happens to be a treat for me. especially when i have someone to cook with.
this was breakfast, australian vegetarian style:
in case you weren't aware, australians make the best breakfasts. no competition. they also make the best lunch and possibly even the best dinner, but i wouldnt want to overstate the case, what with them generally being smug know-it-all bastards.
it's all about avocado, really, cheif amongst their bounty of delicious almost-local vegetables. avocado sliced over vegemite on toast is the tastiest simple breakfast i've ever had.
i fucked up the eggs a bit. can you see? school dinner style. ew.
and these are some trout, on offer at waitrose for around 50p each, cooked with butter and lemon:
it's all about avocado, really, cheif amongst their bounty of delicious almost-local vegetables. avocado sliced over vegemite on toast is the tastiest simple breakfast i've ever had.
i fucked up the eggs a bit. can you see? school dinner style. ew.
and these are some trout, on offer at waitrose for around 50p each, cooked with butter and lemon:
cool. i'm boring myself.
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