Instead, my evening meal consisted of chippy chips and a tin of baked beans. Very rock n' roll.
Majorly disappointed with my culinary offering, I suddenly got a hankering for a Sunday roast. A Sunday dinner isn't just a meal, it's an institution, it puts the Great into Great Britain. Through the tears, I thought back when I last had a Sunday roast dinner and I couldn't remember! Does christmas dinner count? No, didn't think so.
So, next Sunday I'm going to do the full works including roast beef, home made Yorkshire puds, roast potatoes and a mighty helping of vegetables. To complete the masterpiece, the beef will be complimented by horseradish and my secret gravy (or should that be carne de jus) including a hint of Marmite. Deeelicious
Delia Smith, eat your heart out....