The archive button sprouts from our freezer were microwaved and unseasoned.
I like dull food!
It's not dull though. We're inculcated that veg is a dull side, only there because a slab of meat won't fill the entire plate and some vague quasi-religious conviction that repentance is a lukewarm green-grey sidedish. So much is our seething resentment that we punish our veg by boiling them utterly to death.
And if we do have to eat veg for our sins, then we have to hide it. It must swim in sauce, labour like Atlas under a heaven of cheese, be a slave to the bacon. We can't just eat vegetables. Veg is to be avoided, disavowed, snuck into plant pots and family dogs. To be dutifully and miserably chewed because it's good for us.
So Sir Jimmy, says St Peter outside the gates,
a bit of a chequered history I see. He glances back down as his clipboard.
Oh, five-a-day. In you go, don't forget, complementary kale and wheatgrass smoothies at six. Broccoli is next to godliness.
It's a symptom of our odd relationship with food. We can't actually like veg for being veg. It can't taste nice on it's own, simply cooked and served. Be proud of your veg!
At the weekend, I tossed some padron peppers in a hot skillet, nothing more than a splash of olive oil. Served hot with a sprinkle of salt. Food doesn't get much better than that. If I ordered that in the US, they'd stuff the peppers with Monterey Jack and put bacon on top (and anywhere south of the Mason Dixon line, they'd deep fry the lot).