That's right, I said it. I didn't always love food.
My earliest memory is, me sitting in our kitchen being tortured by my Mother.
Okay, alright, not tortured, eating a dinner I did not like. But in fairness to my 5 year old mind, that was torture. It's all relative, right? And you're relatives are the first ones to torture you!! jk
It was Tuesday(Chewsday), and that meant one thing, Shepherd's Pie.
Ground beef that was grey in color, oozing with grease, tomato sauce, onions, carrot layer, mash layer, crisped mash layer.
5 year old yuck, but a 32 year old delight.
My 32 year old self is able to chuckle at my 5 year old insanity, but back then it was no laughing matter.
