Do you ever wonder why people don't make their own fishcakes?
I did, but I don't any more.
I mean, how difficult can it be?
Well, like the Cat in the Hat, looking at the pink bath ring and wondering how to get rid of it, it would seem to be very hard.
My kitchen looks like a bomb site, with shrapnel of potato, breadcrumbs and fish flesh on every surface. I have used pretty much every pan, bowl and utensil in the kitchen (even ones I didn't know I had) and they litter the sink, cooker and tops of cupboards, leaving a trail of greasy, fishy potato. The floor looks as if it's been subject to an attack by a snow machine (the blender got a bit out of control when making bread crumbs) and I'm trying hard to forget I cleaned the kitchen yesterday and that dh only mopped it a day or two ago.
All-in-all it's like some very bad chef's nightmare, a sort of Delia-Smith-meets-Edward-Scissorhands culinary graveyard.
And of course there are now platefuls of the unappreciated rejected greasy, disintegrating, home-made fishcakes looking all unloved and unwanted. Even the dog has given up after the third fishcake and bowl of cooked rice.
There are lessons to be learned today.
One of them is that however wonderful home-made and home-cooked food sounds, sometimes it's best to admit defeat, acknowledge that no Earth mother resides in this house, and go out and buy some frozen fishcakes. DIY is not all it's cracked up to be.
(And no, before you ask. I don't have photos. Even though I document the most banal bits of our daily life, some things are just TOO bad to photograph.)