Living With Mother.

Drain The Colour. Day 13.

- July 29 -

Now, im going to warn you before you see this picture. That way you have ample time to ready your sick bags. Ready?

Good, here goes.

I warned you, didn’t I?

Now then, the question is “what the hell is that?” and truthfully, if I had not asked the mother I too would not know. Apparently, according to the jar of sauce, it is creamy potato gratin. I presume the potatoes were added to the sauce and then cooked (then dropped, then scraped off the back of the oven) before finding their way onto this sorry looking plate.

I mean honestly, if I had not told you I don’t think anyone would have guessed. In a million years. Anyway, as you’d expect it tasted revolting, really revolting. Like gone off cream and soil mixed in with the old dry herbs your grandmother keeps in her “pantry”.

Here is another angle, so you can visualise it better.

Also on the plate (although slightly over shadowed in awfulness by the gratin) is maybe the most colourless piece of meat ever to exist. I think its albino, or its scared of the gratin. Who knows. It was pretty dry, so its lucky I had that creamy potato gratin to go with it. Mmmmmmmm.

Sometimes I wonder where my mother shops, surely it cant be legal to sell half of the food I am given. Maybe she shops in back alleys and deals in black market dry meat, buying off of shady men in hoodies. She might of course just shop at a supermarket, although I cant imagine how this stuff gets past quality control.

Here is one last angle so you can really take in the whole plate:

On a mildly related note, I’ve had a few people ask me why I don’t cook for myself. Good question. I am actually quite a good cook, I got an A in GCSE cookery and all. However, I work quite late at a bar and my mother says I cant turn the oven on when I get in as it has already been on and it would be too expensive to run it twice in one night unnecessarily. She once charged my friend £5 to use the oven to cook a lasagne he had bought over for himself to eat as we had already eaten that night. No joke. So to be honest, Yes, I could cook for myself but as im not Bill Gates I cant really afford to in this house.