When I first moved into my house in my early 20`s I couldn’t cook.
It wasn’t my fault I was never taught to cook as my Mum who, by her own admission is not a chef could never be bothered with the mess.
When I had my first dinner party I watched my guests silently and very politely crunch through their pasta dishes..
Ive moved on since then thankfully.
Now my problem isn’t that I can’t cook more, that I don’t have an appreciative audience.
But, despite learning many techniques and flavours I do love to cook a good old roast dinner.
Its a ritual in our house every Sunday in the winter.
Of course there will be various variations…
Beef, Yorkshire pudding, seasonal vegetables, chicken and spuds.
I love a roast dinner it tastes of home and Ive perfected it over the years.
For me its about what it represents…. home x
Wineoclockmama in luxembourg 