Sausage meat pie, Roasties and Sweetcorn
It is known among most of us, how awkward it can be to say “no!” to that extra potato your grandmother is trying to put on your plate or the sandwiches and cake between lunch and dinner and the eight O’ clock supper of soup and bread. You feel guilty for stuffing down those extra large portions, all the tea and biscuits you would consume in a week and a flurry of tid-bits she keeps bringing to you but really, we all love it. There is nothing like a grandmother’s cooking to make you feel happy and content like a little pig in the sun. It must be the way it tastes; not particularly spectacular or stunningly presented but full of a warming homeliness that makes you feel young and safe. It is almost like the feeling you get opening a present on Christmas day; ultimately irresistible to even the most miserable of adults. It is only when she leaves after that long weekend you start to notice the bloating of your stomach and the pangs of hunger visiting you every hour on the hour. You immediately crave anything green and juicy and foods of a brown or beige hue offend. However, once you have returned to your limited routine and food doesn’t just find its way into your mouth, you start to wish you had Nana’s magical meals back in the house again and more importantly, her there to make it taste great.
Food space 