Friday, January 1, 2010

New Year's resolutions

I've never been much of one for New Year's resolutions. They seem a bit like the kiss of death for good intentions, a bit like starting a renovation project and being approached by Grand Designs

Off topic -how do those people manage to look surprised that the house took twice as long and cost twice as much - have they never seen the show? So, will you be hiring a project manager? No? You think your wife will probably be able to cover that off when she puts the kids down for an afternoon nap?WRONG ANSWER. You can see Kevin there rubbing his hands in glee. Is it wrong that I find something disturbingly sexy about Kevin McCloud? I think it's the voice, it can't be the male pattern baldness or the penchant for knitwear.





Anyway, resolutions. I can't really be bothered with them. Every year it bothers me that the gym is chocka in January. Fortunately it's pleasantly empty come February. I always tend to view people's resolutions with an unhealthy level of cynicism but they rarely prove me wrong.

I have had one friend who kept her resolutions religiously. Every year she picked a food to avoid. The first year it was chocolate and believe it or not she did it. The next year it was chips, the packet variety not the hot kind. I always thought it was an impressive feat of willpower if not completely pointless at the same time.

So, will I be making a resolution? Actually, despite myself I will. I am resolving to limit my use of the phrase "don't know" in matters of personal preference. I really hate it when people tell me they don't know what they want for lunch or whatever. It adds absolutely nothing so I'm going to try not to do it anymore. I tell you what, it's really hard. I'm actually going to have to think for a change.

The blonde has resolved to eat more slowly. I have already sat through one meal of him chewing steak like a cow chewing cud. It could be a long year.

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About Me

I once made the mistake of cooking the entire 1966 Edmonds cookbook in a year. Now I blog from the safety of the couch. I live in New Zealand, a tiny (well relatively small compared to, say, Russia) cluster of Islands in the South Pacific. It's a verdant, smog free (except for Christchurch), sheepish, laidback kind of a place. I've lived at both ends of the country so I feel entitled to make jokes at the expense of both the Aucklanders (the "big city" where most of us Kiwi's live) and the Mainlanders (the folk who live in the south of the country which is rather more dramatic of aspect,devoid of population). A kumara, for those who aren't aware, is the Maori (the native peoples of NZ)word for sweet potato - generally refering to the purple/red skinned variety with yellow flesh. Kiwi's love kumara. If you dance with one you will probably need to lead. I am by training and past experiance a food scientist and by profession a food marketer, two professions blamed for messing with the nations food. I'd like to give a little something back to the food by letting it mess me up a bit. This is a collection of random musings about food and life in general.