Originally published in The Clifton Courier, May 2, 2018

For those of you who have come late to the party, this right here is another entry in a series of autobiographical recipes I’ve whipped up earlier and chucked in the freezer for later.

And after being left to defrost in a metaphorical sink at the Clifton Courier office and reheated by the great microwave that is the printing press, all I can say is that I hope no one ends up with food poisoning from this latest serving.

When nutting out my self-indulgent cookbook idea, I wrote a list of dishes I wanted to include. It featured things like risotto, pumpkin pie and “coconut wanker porridge”. But I realised these were things I cooked to impress people or made on special occasions. It became clear that, if I was going to be truly autobiographical, I needed to include the day-to-day stuff I shove into my gob. So I came up with a list of stuff I eat depressingly often, calling that list Underwhelming But Still Good.

Enjoy this taster plate of culinary insights into just how dismal my life is.

Breakfast Routine

Ok, so some people think my breakfast routine is a little on the sad side. I’ve been mocked for how regimented and soulless it is, devoid of toast, joy and life. But I disagree.

Not squandering my carb intake on breakfast frees me up to enjoy bread at any time of the day.

And the fact that it is so fine-tuned means I don’t have to think of a morning; I just have follow the same steps to get to work on time with a good serve of veggies on the already on the board.

Step 1: Place two eggs in a small saucepan of water, turning on high.

Step 2: Flick on the kettle to boil.

Step 3: Place a teabag in your tea cup/vat-sized mug.

Step 4: Place three portions of frozen spinach and three portions of frozen kale on a plate, placing the plate in the microwave without turning it on.

Step 5:Once the kettle boils, tip into the teacup. Fill the water almost to the top, so that drinking your tea will also scold your oesophagus.

Step 6: Turn the microwave on to cook the unappetising green bricks for three minutes.

Step 7: As the microwave beeps, put one teaspoon of honey into the tea, which should be of a strong stout after steeping for a little more than three minutes.

Step 8: Take the plate out of the microwave and use a spoon to remove the eggs, placing them on a folded tea towel to soak up the water.

Step 9: Stir your honey, which by now should have dissolved and diffused with the water. Add milk, but only just enough to change the colour – won’t have you drinking creamy tea like a milky heathen.

Step 10: Place eggs on plate, then sit down to eat this bountiful meal.

Step 11: Eat kale first, because it is terrible.

Step 12: Eat spinach second, because it is slightly less terrible.

Step 13:Now that you’ve eaten your veggies, you get to enjoy a dessert of hard-boiled, eggy goodness. Do this by cutting the egg right through the guts with a swift whack of a knife right in the middle of the egg and scooping out the innards with a spoon. Treat it like a kiwi fruit, rather than chicken ovulation.

Step 14: Finish your tea, mentally preparing yourself for another meaningless day in your mediocre life.

There, what’s so gloomy about that?

Onion and Bacon Bowl

This was something I pioneered while quite hungover, craving a hearty risotto to fill the void inside me. But after completing the first few steps, I became unable to continue standing upright and settled for whatever I’d prepared up to that point.

I wasn’t disappointed in the food, only in myself.

Step 1: Slice and dice a whole onion. There’s no need to be precise with your cutting because if you’re at the point where you’re making this, it doesn’t matter anyway. You’re not going to impress anyone. You’re probably hunched over, in need of a shower and all alone.

Step 2: Slice and dice about three rashers of bacon. Five if you’re really hungry/sad.

Step 3: Chuck this into a small saucepan with an angry slap of butter (about a tablespoon, but who cares?) and a dowsing of oil.

Step 4: Cook over a medium heat, stirring as you can be bothered to move.

Step 5: Once onion is fragrant and translucent, tip into a bowl, an oversized mug or eat it straight from the saucepan while watching a rerun of a TV show you’ve seen at least seven times. Avoid mirrors on your way to the couch, otherwise you’ll take a long, hard look at yourself – and you won’t be impressed.

Step 6: Curl into a ball and hope sleep comes for you.

Yeah Good Yog

When you need a treat, but you don’t actually deserve a treat.

Step 1: Slop a few spoonfuls of Greek yoghurt into a bowl

Step 2: Crumble a few walnuts over the top. This works best if you equate the crushing the nuts to crushing the patriarchy.

Step 3: Drizzle with honey.

Step 4: Pretend it’s a decadent desert and eat with imitation glee.