Reminiscing About Your Mum’s Kitchen
I was just thinking about your mum, and how as teenagers all we ever seemed to eat were vegetarian sausage rolls, cooked cheese and beans. I don’t know if you were vegetarian or not. I just remember being in your kitchen, sitting in that bay window, and your mum always cooking for us. We’d have a couple of chunks of cheese, beans, and sausage rolls — always. It’s funny, because I don’t remember eating cheese and beans again until I was in my late twenties.
I also remember the very first time I came to your house for tea. Your mum made spaghetti Bologniese, and that was before I was a vegetarian. I was so excited about it — big bowls of food, it smelled amazing, and we didn’t really have that at my house when I think about it.
She offered Parmesan cheese, and I was like, oh my God, I love cheese. But it was that dusty Parmesan in a tube, probably full of E numbers and with no actual Parmesan in it. It ruined the dinner, and I had to eat it to be polite. I remember it being disgusting — it smelled like sick — but not your mum’s cooking, because she was really good. I always thought that. And when she cracked an egg into the pasta, it blew my mind.
How did we not know we were neurodiverse when we were teenagers? When you think about it — eating the same foods, regulating alongside each other, but doing our own thing.
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