I don't know about you, but my evening meals are riddled with mononity and last minute-ness, sometimes prepared in advance when a heavy afternoon of kids activities is looming but mostly cobbled together quickly and slopped on a plate (we even have a meal affectionately known as "Slops"). Last weeks highlight for The Husband was a hot store-bought chicken and a bag of rolls, and a "that's dinner" grunt from me. Not my finest hour in the kitchen.
Recently in an effort to lift my game, I launched "Neil Perry Week" without actually telling anyone. Smith, my Neil Perry recipe book "Good Food" and I went to the supermarket. Smith sat in the trolley holding my book open at all the page markers as I carefully bought all my ingredients for the Neil Perry delights I had planned. Strangely I had a vast assortment of fresh herbs, especially coriander, and piles of veges and expensive cuts of meat. And so we started my marathon of cooking and eating. Monday: Tagliatelle with Rocket, Lemon and Chilli, Tuesday; Roasted Herb Crusted Lamb with Roasted Capsicum sauce, Wednesday; Lamb, Mint and Pea Pie, Thursday; Herb Crusted Snapper and Crunchy Salsa. My now, the husband was over herb crusted anything and was pleading with me for a break. As he picked at his fish, with me giving him the evil eye, he asked if we could take a break. I accused him of not liking the meal, and he owned up to the fact he'd had lunch out. And I'm guessing it wasn't a toasted panini at a food court. "But I still have a butterflied leg of lamb to marinade and serve with spicing chargrilled vegetables and garlic yoghurt", I insisted. "Lets have it next week" he suggested. And a good thing it was too, because the leg of lamb I took from the freezer and prepared lovingly actually turned out to be a large piece of rump steak (they all look the same in the freezer right?) and it was hideous and tough. I still made him eat it though. Thankfully we're back on the slops.
Neil Perry Week is officially a once-a-year event.