There is nothing like a sit down, home cooked dinner to warm the heart.
I cleared my planner when I found out my grandmother was cooking dinner tonight and headed over with my dad and two sisters. Walking in the door, the house smelled divine. There was a spicy, tangy aroma that filled the kitchen and I couldn’t discern what it was that lay simmering away in the black pressure cooker on the stove. From experience, my nose had me thinking perhaps it was ribs. My grandmother makes the best ribs. They’re fork tender, juicy and with the right blend spicy and sweet. Ribs aside, I set the table, still unsure as to what it was that lay, now turned off in the black pot. There was an assortment to be had with it, shoots of broccoli, rice pilaf and egg noodles, already being laid out on the table. Finally, right before everyone sat down, my grandmother set the last dish on the table. In the dish lay what looked like ribs. Ah, my nose was right. But stabbing at a lump of the meat, I noticed I was wrong. It was chicken. While everyone chattered, I got all serious. I realised I had left my camera in my room, sitting right there on my desk with my phone charger and satchel. How was I to photograph this awesome dinner?
Luckily for me, my Gran had just bought her Kodak and told me I was more than welcome to use it. Assembling my plate and trying not to laugh at my sister, who was making funny faces and telling a grand story about something or other, I took a few pics and could not wait to enjoy.
The chicken was a bit dry (and thankfully there was this kick-you-in-the-teeth-chipotle-barbecue sauce to be had on the side), but other than that, it was incredibly flavourful. As I’d mentioned before, it’d have made a really good pulled chicken sandwich. It was also incredibly filling and was exactly what I needed after a long week of bland, unflavour-fulfilling food.