Putting food on the table isn't as easy as studying for a degree, finding a job in a competitive market and then putting in 9hrs a day behind your desk... you also need to decide what to put on the table.
I find myself in this vexing position twice a week, and while housemate Nic is an entirely accomodating person-who-eats-what-i-cook, I need to eat what i cook too.
I've seen them before, I've even done that thing where you pick something up and judge its quality by shaking it up and down to see how much it weighs. Caught in the tumult of last minute menu planning, I grabbed the Spar meatloaf and headed off to find an accompanying carb.
Kudos to the marketing department, their openness and synchronised deception is noteworthy. Had they called it beef loaf, or pork bread... the butchery's hands would be tied... had they not covered the meatloaf in cheese, an astute shopper might have noticed the unusual combination of dead animals contained within.
To make matters worse, while I was manouvering our meat-bonanza out of the oven it slipped... bounced (unusual for a meat) and then lay wobbling on the vinyl floor.
Nic summed it up well - "That was... ok... I wouldnt serve it to... anyone else"
