When food gets boring (AM)

Well it's spring racing time here in Melbourne. A time of frocks, fashion, fascinators and horse death. You can just smell it, can't you? All this means for many of us though is laughing at the scantily clad women in heels you see tottering through some spring storm and of course the much welcome return of public holidays after a 5-month dry spell. 

To celebrate the return of the public holiday, K and I hosted a picnic. By which I mean we agreed to meet in a park at a designated time and told some other people to join us. It was a roaring success. By which I mean people showed up and food and drink were consumed. I filled baguettes, K baked things, including a delicious pumpkin tart about which Stephen Jameson asked "will this make it onto your food blog, Soft Shell Crab?" To which I replied "It's not a food blog." To which he responded "Every time I look it's about food." Well we just really like food, ok. 

So here we are again. The thing that amazes me, as a person that really likes food, is that sometimes figuring out what to eat is the worst. I've said it before, but really I mean day after day that's three meals you've got to figure out. Ugh. 

Breakfast is fine because I love porridge. Most nights I feel so happy to be going to bed because it means my morning porridge is so near. But lunch and dinner... Sure I love those meals but figuring out what I'm going to eat for them really is soooooo boring. I wonder if a way to conquer this problem may be to just have a weekly menu so there is no question. This seems boring too but it would make things easy. Most Sundays I pan fry some flathead, roast potatoes and make a salad for dinner and every week it fucking rules. Every morning my porridge totally rules. I love those things I eat all the time. Maybe I should just be doing more of that.  I feel like I've worked through this issue right here and solved my problem. Thanks guys. Maybe it's because I've been watching a lot of Sex and the City lately and now I feel my posts need to end with some neat wise sentence: Perhaps variety is not the spice of life but well spiced, yet repetitive meals are.