Every Sunday, despite her moaning about cooking, my mum refuses to let anyone else take over the roast dinner – it’s a family tradition, essential to our Sundays.
Growing up, Sundays were full of family – my grandparents, aunties, and uncles would gather, and there was always the delight of my nanny bringing sausage sandwiches.
After a hearty roast, I often find myself in a food coma, seeking a brief nap before spending the evening with my daughters or nephews.
Despite my healthy eating during the week, Sunday is my one day of indulgence, often spiraling into late-night snacks and procrastination towards Monday.
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