So, yesterday, I was standing in Tesco at 5:47pm. Again. As the kids whine in the trolley, I have precisely twenty-three minutes before I need to pick up Tommy from football practice, and I’m looking at the pre-made meals, thinking, ‘There has to be a better way.’ To tell you the truth, this happens every time. We start Monday with grand plans. We’re going to meal prep. We’re going to be organised. Then it’s Wednesday and you’re googling “what to cook with pasta and despair”. I’ve been cooking for my lot for 12 years. Three children, one fussy husband, and a mother-in-law who barges in unannounced and expects feeding. I’ve learned some tricks. Not fancy chef nonsense; proper, real-world dinner ideas that won’t have you crying into a jar of Dolmio.
The Tuesday Night Breakdown
Last month I had what I call my “Tuesday Night Breakdown.” We’ve all been there: kids are waiting to be fed, husband is working late and there’s nothing in the fridge apart from half a bag of frozen peas and possibly some cheese that might’ve been off. That’s when it hit me. I don’t want a hundred different recipes. I need maybe fifteen or so really good ones that I can do with one hand tied behind my back. Meals where if I’m missing one ingredient, I can chuck something else in and it’ll still taste decent. So I started writing them down. Properly writing them down, not just thinking, “Oh, I’ll remember that.” Because let’s face it, by Thursday I’ve forgotten what worked brilliantly on Monday.
What Actually Gets Eaten
Here’s what no one tells you about family cooking: no matter how Instagram-perfect a meal may look, if no one eats it, what’s the point? My kids will annihilate some plain pasta with butter and cheese but turn their noses up at anything with visible herbs. Chicken fajitas always do the trick. Every. Single. Time. When they’re on special, I buy the Old El Paso kits (usually five at once and stick them into the cupboard). Chuck some chicken in a pan, heat up the wraps, and suddenly you are the hero of the house. Kids think they’re getting a treat; you know they’re getting vegetables. Same with jacket potatoes. Pop them in the oven while you are doing the school run. Come back; they’re done. Beans, cheese, and a little of that salad if you’re feeling fancy. Job done. My mum always said cooking was about making do with what you’ve got. She was feeding six of us on buttons, and yet somehow we never felt deprived. Her shepherd’s pie was made from the cheapest mince and whatever vegetables needed to be used up. The best one I’ve ever had, still.
The Shopping Disaster Prevention Plan
I get the shopping thing now, but it took years of disasters. You know what I’m talking about; you pop in for milk and bread, walk out with seventeen random ingredients for that recipe you saw on Facebook, and then realise you can’t actually make anything for dinner. Now I keep what I call my “panic list,” which are ingredients that work in loads of different things. Tinned tomatoes (buy 12 when they are 30p each). Pasta (obvs). Mince (freeze it in portions). Eggs. Cheese. Rice. Then you could make 20 different meals. Not MasterChef perfect, but they’ll fill everyone up and nobody’s going to bed hungry.
When Everything Goes Wrong
Sometimes it all falls apart. Last week the oven packed up at 4pm. The kids were starving, and my husband was asking, “What’s the plan?” and I was standing there looking at frozen chicken like it might magically cook itself. That’s when you need your proper backup dinner ideas. Scrambled eggs on toast isn’t fancy, but it’s hot, it’s filling, and it takes three minutes. Add some baked beans and suddenly it’s a “full English for dinner”. The kids thought it was brilliant. Or cheese toasties. Make them in a frying pan if you’re feeling sophisticated, or stick them under the grill. Serve with tinned tomato soup and you’ve just created childhood memories.
Also Read: Solution Bank
Real Talk About Family Cooking
Social media makes everything look so bloody perfect, doesn’t it? All these pristine kitchens and colour-coordinated vegetables. Real cooking is messier. It’s cooking with a toddler hanging off your leg and a teenager complaining that everything’s “rank”. Some nights, fish fingers and chips are absolutely fine. Some nights, you’ll feel inspired and make something amazing. Most nights are somewhere in between. I’ve stopped apologising for simple food. If it tastes good and everyone eats it without complaining, that’s a win. If you manage to get some vegetables in them without a massive argument, that’s basically a miracle.
The Game Changers
The slow cooker changed my life. It may sound dramatic, but it’s true. Chuck everything in before work, and come home to something that smells amazing. Even if it looks a bit grey, it usually tastes alright. Batch cooking works too, but not in that Pinterest way where everything’s portioned into glass containers. I mean making double and sticking half in the freezer. Future you will be so grateful. One-pot meals are brilliant because there’s less washing up. Anything where you can cook the meat, add vegetables, and then add rice or pasta in the same pan. Fewer dishes means more time for wine.
The Truth About Meal Planning
Everyone bangs on about meal planning like it’s the solution to everything. And maybe it works for some people. But I’ve tried it approximately forty-seven times and failed every single time. What works better is having a rough idea. Monday might be pasta night. Tuesday could be chicken something. Wednesday is leftovers or whatever needs using up. It’s flexible but gives you some structure. Keep a list on your phone of meals everyone actually enjoys. Not meals you think they should enjoy; the meals they properly demolish without moaning. Mine includes spaghetti bolognese, roast chicken (when I can be bothered), and beans on toast (don’t judge me). The best dinner ideas are the ones you’ll actually cook. Start simple, build from there, and remember “fed is best.” Even if it’s not Instagram-worthy.
