The F-word. Not that one

Before you begin to read, please excuse the crumbs.

I love to snack while I write. I’m not picky; from the humble chocolate digestive, perfectly married with a nice cup of tea; to a sandwich in the small hours, filled with whatever in the fridge doesn’t move when I touch it; to an entire roast chicken with all the trimmings, not forgetting the gravy.

But the point is that I love to cook. Every new recipe that doesn’t result in a trip to A&E is a success for me, another notch in my wooden spoon.

However, I have been burned, and not just literally. For example, the difference between a korma and an apocalyptic fire-storm when adding jalapeño peppers to a curry can be as small as a factor of ten. Accidents like this are why most of my lower intestine is currently stored in a glass jar in Charing Cross Hospital. But these aren’t failures – they are lessons by which to improve my artistry.

I have come to learn that, in order to make a good meal, food must satisfy three principles.

Firstly, the food must taste good. This can mean solving lengthy equations to find the correct balance of different spices or it can be as simple as choosing strawberry jam over Marmite when looking for something to spread on toast. (I don’t want to start any arguments over this so I’ll say it plainly. Marmite lovers, you are against nature. Seek professional help immediately...please?)

Secondly, and perhaps most importantly effort must go into the food. As a rule, I am totally against ready-meals, after one particularly bad experience. I once tried curry from a can – to this day, I have no conclusive evidence that it wasn’t dog food.

Thirdly, sugar, fat, calories; these all improve a meal ten-fold. As a medical student I really shouldn’t be advising that you inject cream into your omelettes with a syringe so use half cream instead. Again, this is obvious – how appetising is a salad? Cottage cheese? Muesli? Are you salivating yet? No, I didn’t think so. Now think about a plate full of bacon and egg, with beans, fried tomatoes and fried bread. Would you like a towel? I can comfortably say without hyperbole that a full English breakfast cooked by my house–mate will raise the dead. It works wonders on a Monday morning hangover.

With these three tenets behind you, you cannot go far wrong in the kitchen. However, the most important lesson I’ve learnt is that the best meals are those you make yourself. This is something that applies not just in the kitchen, but in all rooms of the house and beyond. Whatever life throws at you, don’t choose the gentle path and don’t choose the difficult path. Make your own path and see where it goes!

Also, make sure to wash up as you go.