When you don’t live with your parents anymore, you realise just how much you appreciate your Mum’s home-cooked dinners. Sure, sometimes it feels really rebellious to get home of a Friday evening to a feast of a full bottle of wine and easy peasy pasta with a whole block of grated cheese on top; but, does it really beat your parents special meal they make you because you love it, or that delicious dish your Mum has spent the best part of her day cooking?
I visited my Mum’s house last week for dinner. It was a baltic, windy, miserable-ass day, so you can imagine the overwhelming sense of joy I felt when she explained we were having chicken casserole that had been going in the slow cooker. Heaven. All the vegetable goodness served with creamy mash. Bring it on.
Imagine my absolute horror then, when we sat down to eat and Mum lines up the condiments on the table and whacks out the ketchup. Surely that’s a mistake? I thought. It then proceeded to get worse… Mum started squirting it on her casserole. My jaw drops. Please god no.
‘What the actual fuck are you doing?!’ Were my exact words. After she told me to stop effing, she didn’t understand what had riled me. Ketchup, on a casserole, why had she done this!
The casserole is already moist, it’s got gorgeous ingredients such as stock and juices from the meat in it, it doesn’t need to be swamped in ketchup to take away from the taste, also, what if the casserole juices and ketchup mix together?! MAKE IT STOP! It’s not right. This is just a crime against cuisine happening right now. I wanted to cry.
I know there will be ketchup haters lining up to back my mumsy, but surely someone else out there has got to see what’s happening here – ketchup has it’s purposes but using it to ruin dishes cannot continue. What do you think?