This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was meant to be an awful slog. A nightmare. Impossible, some said. But a week in, the novelty’s still there and the whole thing is still pretty, er, enjoyable.
Now, I don’t wish to get ahead of myself, of course. The thought of a piled-high kebab, or a beef patty dripping with glistening fat droplets or a KFC boneless bucket creeps into my consciousness every now and again but... actually, it's quite rare.
I can report that I have enjoyed three really quite scrumptious meals in the last few days: an all-vegetable jalfrezi with rice that packed a son-of-a-bitch-that’s-hot punch, some non-Quorn veggie burger pittas, complete with salad and fake mayo, and even Vegan enchiladas made with mexican re-fried beans.
I’ve even already got a pretty good idea on what I like and what I don’t like. The real food, the unexpected stuff, the Pringles and peanut butters of this world, are great. They make it a breeze. The fake stuff, however, the luminous pink ‘ham’, the odd-looking block of dairy-free cheese (‘Cheezly’ is the one currently in my fridge)... not so much. They just don't taste right.
Oh, and Tofu. I can’t do Tofu. I am reliably advised that I am cooking / preparing it all wrong, and that may well be the case, but for now I can happily live without its monumental blandness. (It was all over as soon as I put it in some pasta and the look and texture reminded me of that scene from the movie ‘Hannibal’ where Anthony Hopkins is frying up that one dude’s brains. Not cool.)
But aside from that, it’s all good. Bloody hell, I didn’t even realise that it was Pancake Day yesterday, let alone miss it. That’s a first. What is wrong with me? Right now, I guess, not a lot.