Would You Like Forks With That?

In the olden days, when I was a girl growing up in a small country town in South Australia, Friday night was the night the town came alive. In a world before weekend trading and online banking, farmers and fruit growers would make a special trip in to town to do the banking and shopping. The highlight for me was not the quick stop we made at the supermarket, but more the possibility of take-away food. 

For my mother, Friday’s were the end of a long working week, which meant there was a chance she’d say yes to the suggestion of take-away dinner as a treat. I loved it, I’m a creature of habit (one of those annoying people who scans the menu for fifteen minutes, only to end up ordering the same old same old every time). At ‘charcoal chickens’ (do you think they spent hours brainstorming the name?)  it was always the same, a ‘hot pack’. A quarter of chicken, chips and gravy, and maybe a stray carrot or pea here and there.

There was no McDonalds or KFC, actually there was no franchise fast food of any description. In our little country town take-away food meant lining up and and waiting for your hamburger to be cooked from scratch. If it was fish and chips you unrolled the paper at the table, sprinkled the salt and added some vinegar. If it was chicken and chips you ate it out of the container it came in. The whole purpose of take-away food in our house was that there were no dishes and definitely no preparation. A night off.

Everybody feels that way right?

Everyone except G.

My husband somehow manages to turn takeaway food, leftovers, or a quick and easy boiled egg into an occasion. If it’s KFC he feels the need to make a salad, if it’s fish and chips he’s likely to whip up an asian cabbage slaw while throwing in a few extra bits and pieces to cook when he gets home “just hang on while I gently dust these scallops in flour – do we have kosher salt?”

I realized earlier in our relationship while visiting G’s parents, that I had no hope of changing him, his condition was hereditary. After arriving back from KFC I was confused to see the tablecloth out and dinnerware fenced in by cutlery. There was a selection of condiments in the middle of the table. G’s mother was tossing a salad in the kitchen. I didn’t understand, if we have to cut, dice, prepare and then wash the dishes what was the purpase of take-away? The world wasn’t making any sense.

It was only the beginning.

Over twelve years of marriage, I’ve discovered that bacon and eggs are never just bacon and eggs, there is always a trip to the store for freshly squeeze juice, “good” coffee must be sourced, and bread that will ideally still be warm will also make an appearance. Pancakes will often be offered in a couple of different formats. A simple sandwich is never simple. An “easy” roast chicken has to be stuffed with at least seven ingredients, and leaves will be gently plucked from homegrown herbs. Why make something simple when you can consult the gourmet traveler? Why go to the supermarket once a week when you can go every day?

I was chatting to my mother on Skype over the weekend when G walked in to let me know he was heading to the shop for milk. “Do we need anything else?”

There was a quick discussion about dinner and the decision was leftovers. We had chicken curry and lasagna in the refrigerator that needed to be eaten. It was going to be a simple matter of reheating. After getting to bed at 3.30 that morning we were looking forward to a lazy night in front of the telly. Lazy.

Forty five minutes later I found G in the kitchen making guacamole. He was dicing the red onions when I asked what was going on.

“I saw we had olives”

 I think that was meant to explain the reason he was now making guacamole from scratch.

“And the haloumi cheese?” I was struggling to make the connection.

“I figured I’d fry it in olive oil, it’ll be perfect with the lebanese olives and the baba ganoush.

“The left over curry?”

“We can still do that, I thought I’d just throw a few things together first”

Those little things above the olives are figlets (delicious with gooey cheese)

I’ve missed a few things from the picture but you get the general idea.

The children miss their father very much when he travels.

How about you? Do you serve a salad with take-away pizza?

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Comments

  1. wowsas your man really knows how to make a meal memorable huh! im with you if its takeaway its takeaway and Im not lifting a damn finger! lol!!

  2. I know where you are coming from I have the same problem with my husband nothing is ever quick and simple everything has to be made with a lot effort or it is not worth sitting down for a meal …. I am confused too

  3. After a full day of taking care of the 2.5 year old grandtwins, I ordered pizza – delivered of course. My wife suggested Chinese take-out, but that would have taken too much energy … remember the twins? So no, it was pizza and reaching in to the fridge for an ice tea AND THAT WAS ALL THE EFFORT FOR THAT! 🙂

  4. Michelle says

    No. We are lazy! I am impressed and exhausted all at once by G’s efforts.

  5. Anonymous says

    Wow, on the positive note, he is doing it by hImself and not expecting you to do!!!!!!!
    Vani

  6. My husband is *exactly* the same. Luckily for me, he cooks six nights out of seven as, being a physicist, he considers cooking his creative outlet.

    The results are always fantastic, so I’m more than happy to stack the dishwasher and fling a wet cloth over all the surfaces.

    My meal, on the seventh night? ALWAYS a one pot classic.

  7. Salad with takeaway pizza?
    Heck no!
    The pizzas were delivered, boxes were opened on the table and everyone ate until the boxes are empty.
    We threw away the boxes, washed our hands and were done.
    Leftovers of any kind were stored in microwaveable disposable containers, zapped to heat them then eaten straight from the container, which was then tossed out.
    Things are different now I’m on my own. I buy frozen pizzas and add my own extra toppings to them, but then I just eat them straight off the pizza tray, no extra dishes. And still no salad.

  8. We rarely did take-out food when I was younger, and the few times we did, all we added were the beverages. KFC came with rolls, a mediocre coleslaw and mashed potatoes/gravy so that was considered a balanced meal. Today? I’ll toss a salad or put together some fruit but not much more. You should clone your husband or rent out his culinary services.

  9. I think Kirsty our husbands came out of the Same Aussie mould. Like you I am the cook during the week because I have to and the weekend is all his… And I am thankful for that….

  10. I’m with you when it comes to have it delivered, eat, done. I don’t even reheat leftover pizza; I LIKE it cold and eaten with my hands, not a knife and fork. But, I would eat G’s goodies as long as he made them and cleaned up after.

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