December 12th 2017
Today I refused to eat my dinner. Firstly though, I want to preface this entire blog post by saying that I am so incredibly grateful and thankful that there is always dinner on the table when I get home from work. I am very lucky and privileged that I have a girlfriend who is willing to look after me in such a way that she’ll wait for me to get home from football so that we can eat together, and she always cooks wonderful dinners. The content and tone of what follows in this blog post is mostly satirical, and just for a bit of fun considering I have nothing else to write about today. That being said…
I fucking hate Shepherd’s Pie.
Alice knows that I hate Shepherd’s Pie as well. And I know that she knows that I hate Shepherd’s Pie. And she knows that I know that she knows that I hate Shepherd’s Pie.
When I walked through the door after football I smelled mince and, after a greeting and a kiss, I said “spag bol?”, and she said “You’re not gonna be happy…”, so I said “What have you done with the mushrooms???” because she sometimes puts mushrooms in spag bol and I don’t like that either, and she said “Worse. I made cottage pie.”
Also, I should mention that I fucking hate cottage pie as well – whatever the fucking difference is.
My main beef with cottage and/or shepherd’s pie is the mash. I hate mash. I don’t like the texture. It’s too soft. No, I know that doesn’t make much sense. Every time I tell someone that I don’t like mash they’re shocked and appalled. And then when I tell them that it’s because it’s too soft they’re appalled and shocked.
Yeah, I know.
Again, Alice knows this and, bless her, she topped the pie with sliced potatoes instead of mash, thinking that that would make it better. Alas…
My other beef with cottage pie is the beef. I like mince. Mince is good in spag bol. Mince is good in chilli. Mince is good in burgers. But I don’t like mince with gravy and vegetables.
I like gravy on its own, and I like it with vegetables, but I don’t like the combination of gravy, mince and vegetables.
There’s an episode of FRIENDS where Rachel is trying to make a dessert but accidentally combines two recipes and ends up making “half an English trifle and half a shepherd’s pie”. Naturally, its awful and everyone hates it, but Joey inexplicably enjoys it. He says:
“What’s not to like? Custard? Good. Jam? Good. Meat? Good.”
That is how I should feel about Shepherd’s pie (by itself, not when combined with a trifle).
Potatoes? Good. Gravy? Good. Veg? Good. Beef? Good.
But there’s something about that combination that just throws me right off. I think it partly harks back to my childhood days of super-fussy eating where my Mum once forced me to sit and finish a shepherd’s pie. It took me four hours. That sounds excessive, but…
I fucking hate shepherd’s pie.
I just can’t do it. So although I massively appreciate the love and effort Alice put into making it, I couldn’t eat it. I was having flashbacks to sitting alone at the dining table, forking cold mash and mince into my unwilling mouth. Again, my Mum is a fantastic cook, and I put her through a lot with my fussy eating – she tried so hard, and I’m sure she must have worried – I just… I fucking hate shepherd’s pie.
I put today’s dinner in a lunchbox and I’ll take it into work tomorrow for someone else to enjoy. I’m sure it tastes absolutely lovely and everything, I just, well, you get the idea by now.
Until tomorrow, Alice, I’m sorry and thank you for everything you do (except for shepherd’s pies).