For a dedicated cook I sometimes get it very wrong.
Last night's Chicken dinner was horrible.
I think my solemn mood must have seeped into the cooking pot.
I wouldn't have cared so much if I'd be eating alone but when I'm cooking for three other people a failure of monumental proportions really grates.
I left mine.
The men and mum ate theirs.

All this to-do with mum and her living arrangements is making me feel quite ill AND mucking up my menus. I feel a total overhaul of menu planning is required.
Beginning tomorrow.

Today's fare was livelier and tastier.
Roast shoulder of pork, roasted potatoes, glazed parsnips and peas. Apple sauce and gravy. To finish...Apple and Apricot Crumble with custard. Mr Horsehound loved it, mum didn't say a word. I ate it because I was peckish.

I don't know what it is but there's something wrong with me at the mo and its manifesting itself in lack lustre food.
My heart just isn't in it.