Last week I took it upon myself to try and make Butternut Mac & Cheese, in a vain and ultimately disastrous attempt to make the classically grease-laden dish healthy. Why? Because I wanted pasta and cheese sauce something fierce, but unfortunately my wedding dress doesn’t quite zip all the way up yet — and also because my love for cheese has to have some kind of outlet regardless of my dress’s opinion. It’s all about balance.
It was, quite frankly, weird. Isla ate most of hers, claiming that she “actually quite liked it”, but even she pulled a face when I asked her if she wanted me to pack up my uneaten dinner for her to have another day. I really hate wasting food… and yet the bin was the only place for it. You can’t get everything right first time.
Sometimes you resort to buttered toast for dinner, and it cannot be helped.
So what have I learned from this? I know now that to attempt to stifle the very nature of cheese is nothing but pure hubris, and some things should be left well alone. I am a mere mortal.
P.S. There will eventually be actual recipes forthcoming, but it’s been so hot recently that I’ve mostly been draping myself across any cool surface I can find and saying things like ‘mercy me’ while eating salads.