This is your Gutsy Girl circa 1992, feeding my face with what looks like Carbonara in some Majorcan restaurant (authentic Italian...hmmm!), already knee deep in bread and aioli and rocking some sort of Laura Ashley, sailor girl get up (obvs). I‘ve always had a special relationship with food. I can remember sitting at my Nana‘s kitchen table and begging my Grandad to set me up on his retro Apple Mac, black screen and green text, sitting for hours making up my own menus for my imaginary restaurant. I would also do my imaginary husband‘s ironing (he always worked at British Steel) with oven gloves on, as instructed by my Nana so I didn‘t get burnt. Since then, my domesticated skills have been concentrated to the kitchen... my happy place. The first thing I ever remember making on my own were Moules Mariniere and a Whiskey Cranachan for my Mum on Mother‘s Day. I can remember that feeling was so new and so overwhelmingly lovely to see how you could make someone happy with something so simple as the act of cooking and eating. I also remember asking my Dad if we could keep a mussel as a pet when I knew they were alive. Dad said no as we couldn‘t take it for walks like a dog.
My skills have developed, I got myself a husband (and I‘m yet to do his ironing), and I feed the chops of my family and friends with the same love and salivation as I had for that Carbonara back then. One thing I have learnt is that a mushroom is never, ever needed in a Carbonara. That feeling of joy from the exchange of food to another is addictive, the added extra is that those that love me back can see that what I love is making me happy too… throw children in to the mix and you've got something magic. To know my child is seeing me do something that makes me happy is the biggest lesson of all - forget learning how to cook, he’s learning how to be happy. Although, if my child doesn‘t knock me up a three course Mother‘s Day Meal any time soon, we‘ll have problems.
Feeding faces is one of my favourite things to do, but making you happy with it too is why this Gutsy Girl exists.