Sometimes we put too much pressure on ourselves to be perfect. I'm a constant offender in the kitchen.
Yesterday I tried to do too much: I made another loaf of bread, I made up a chicken curry in the slow cooker, threw together a soup, prepped for dinner and then baked a cake - all before lunch.
The soup wasn't ready so we had sausage sandwiches.
I let the slowcooker cook and cook......too long. It was pasty, dry, too acidic and just plain revolting.
The cake turned out well but there was no one home to eat it because the rest of the household had gone to the park.
Feeling despondent and surveying the dishes already in the sink, I couldn't bear the thought of cooking our planned family dinner of sausage risotto.
By the time Olive & Mr Di-licious came home from the park, I was in a complete funk.
I felt like a complete failure.
"You know what darling?" he said. "Everyone is allowed to have a cooking fail once in a while. Even you."
"How about I pick up some takeaway?"
And that dear readers is why I love him. Because whenever I fail at something or fall into a funk, he's got my back. Our 'simple Saturday family meal' turned into fish and chips by the fire.
I'm still annoyed I didn't get it right (and wasted perfectly good chicken thigh fillets in the process) but that's life.
On the bright side there's lemon coconut cake for afternoon tea today, our dog happily ate the curry, the chooks will get the leftover chips, we'll have the soup for supper tonight and I've already got Monday nights dinner prepped.
It's not quite the menu I'd planned but no one went hungry.