Dinner for me is one out of the box

I ADMIT I have previously judged the sight of polystyrene Esky boxes conspicuously placed at the front door of strangers’ houses.

I have caught myself subconsciously trying to profile what type of food delivery service customer they are as I drive by. Health kick? Time poor? Saving money? Can’t cook?

For all the above reasons I recently joined the movement and though I’m still in the honeymoon period, early signs suggest I’m on to a good thing.

Family, friends and regular readers (the latter is largely a combination of the first two) will already be aware of my shortcomings in the kitchen. To recap: Facebook cooking demonstrations make me more hungry than inspired, my fridge is always near on empty and, yes, there is enough scope in an easy-three-step-non-bake-recipe for things to go wrong when I’m behind the wooden spoon.

I’ve never frequented the supermarket enough to memorise where staple items are located, so an attempt at a weekly grocery shop is just a series of long pauses spent looking at items, wondering what they are, what they go with and how to cook them — usually accompanied by a distressed facial expression similar to that of a toddler whose mum wandered into the next aisle without them noticing. On the rare occasion I have something to contribute to a dinner party other than alcohol, I get (correctly) accused of passing off packet mix brownies, or Mum’s chocolate ripple cake, as my own. So accepting my culinary flaws the way my friends already had, I decided to throw in the towel and sign up to a meal delivery service. Now instead of spending Sunday night flicking through a cookbook, marking the pages of meals I like the look of but almost certainly won’t attempt, I get the thrill of doing so electronically and having someone else do the work for me.

Better yet, I can be enjoying my dinner 120 seconds after I feel myself getting hangry and don’t need deprive myself of 10 minutes extra sleep in the morning to make lunch.

I no longer get that feeling of 5 o’clock dread when you’re about to finish work but realise you’ve got to come up with a dinner idea that’s not poached eggs on toast. And I get them delivered to my sister-in-law’s house so nosy strangers are none the wiser.