Being a Saturday, we had a rather lazy late (and rather unhealthy) breakfast of scones (’aw Mum, did you put raisins in them? Yuck!’) and cookies (these were slightly healthier seeing as they contained my secret additives of dates and almonds whizzed in the processor, plus some oats). We were a bit stuffed at lunchtime, so didn’t bother having our lunch until about 3pm when we sat down to large plates of sausage, egg and chips and had quite an entertaining conversation about ‘the old days’. I think I’ve mentioned before that when I was a kid our homelife was completely centred around either cricket or football. On winter Saturdays, we used to have egg and chips or a big fry up early because my brothers would be playing football and my Dad would be refereeing. I would then traipse down to the football field and, if I got lucky, Uncle ‘T-bone Tone’ Tony (he was a butcher, obviously), my Dad’s mate and my very lovely big, cuddly Godfather would be there in his big old Jag watching the game with the heater on and I’d get to sit with him and eat sweets. If I was unlucky it was 90 minutes on the swings for me, freezing my bum off. Once, one of the footballers jumped up to unhook the net from the goalpost at the end and got his wedding ring caught in the hook on the crossbar - that was probably the most interesting thing that ever happened, apart from the odd ambulance for the unlucky recipient of a dodgy tackle. The mention of Uncle Tone’s car started the boys talking about Grandad, whose car is always stuffed to the rafters with Haribos and wine gums, and who can always be tucked up for another ice cream or bottle of coke on trips to the zoo.

On winter Sundays it was football in the morning, followed by the full monty roast dinner, a proper pudding and then probably football on TV in the afternoon (lucky me, eh?). My Mum and Dad used to watch all that old crap like the Antiques Roadshow and my Mum liked Songs of Praise. Thank God for modern mercies like Top Gear, that’s all I can say. I made the boys laugh by telling them about my Mum and Dad eating things like cods roe on toast (eeeuuuurrrggghhh!!) and sardine sandwiches for Sunday tea. I didn’t mind if it was scrambled egg on toast, as long as we had Worcestershire sauce on it. I then got all nostalgic for home and had to bake a lemon cake to make me feel better. It still hasn’t worked, so I’m off for another slice. God, my life in food, eh?

No Comments »