Wherever I write about food it’s never that well read. I don’t know whether I lack the skills to adequately describe it, or people don’t expect me to write about it, but this time this post is to do with food. For me though, the important bit is the people I am sharing my favourite meals with. I generally love something I have not had to make myself!

My favourite meal about 4 months ago was fairly simple. I was at my favourite pub, at a table at the back of the restraunt, in the corner. Someone I thought I was in love with was holding one of my hands, and chatting away, leaving me free to eat with the other hand. To save myself some embarrassment  I had picked finger food I thought I could eat with one hand. Perish the thought that I might have to spoil the first date/meal out/pub date by asking my date to cut my food for me! I had taken a risk and chosen messy food. Risky strategy for someone with cerebral palsy. Dare I take a risk and say there is something a bit sexy about messy food?! (TMI??!!) cheese, nachos, salsa, sour cream, guacamole. A huge plateful meant there was no need for chips, a starter or a desert.

I do not remember what we talked about. I just remember the general things. How it felt to finally hold hands, to see the face the voice belonged to, to have the opportunity to do such a human thing and feel ‘normal’. The food sounds remarkably plain, even if you add in a half of draught cider. In my opinion, good company can make the plainest of food taste amazing, especially if it’s something I make for others and it turns out well, no matter how simple it is. It is often such a delight to do something for other people for once, instead of me being served.

I have no idea how long we stayed in the pub. I remember the minutes we waited for the taxi. I will spare you the details, save to say I was glad I hadn’t eaten a massive meal when my date decided it might be fun to lift me. We are no longer in touch, because things came to a natural end. I hope one day I get to have a first date with a gentleman who may be ‘the one’ as this person did not prove to be. For now though, I remember it with fondness and satisfaction, and somehow separate from the rest of it.

The next time I went to this pub, I went with friends, and had what was my favourite meal from my childhood. SCAMPI, (shrimp?) and chips. Homemade scampi no less, and the obligatory half pint of cider. It more than just satisfied my hunger, as it proved to live up to the memories too, of countless childhood fish-shop suppers. Hot, salty and delicious. I wonder who I will visit my favourite pub with next time?