Title says it all-what might it be you are eating now one and all?
For me, just made my breakfast.
A bowl of oat porridge, made by simmering together two big cups of whole rolled oats, two same sized cups full of whole fat milk, a pile of salt as a wee but generous mound on the back of a hand and tossed in, a generous chunk of salty proper butter, none of that mixed butter/vegetable oil gross garbage, and demerara type brown sugar added while it cooks.
Then, when served after boiling it down slowly to a nice thick consistency, nice and stiff, covered in rich, soft, moist and treacly, molasses-ey dark brown muscovado sugar.
Just the way I like it. With a frosty bottle of Peroni, my favourite italian barley-brewed, delightfully hoppy lager. Pricy, but very good stuff. A bottle of that to wash said brekky bowl of porridge down.
I can SMELL that dark sugar from several feet away as it melts over the top. Oh that smells delish; covered in lashings of it, doubtless way too much sugar for a dietician to be happy about anyone eating, some 6 or 7 big heaping dessertspoons full, covered all over it and melted to a puddle of treacly molasses-syrup. Rich, way more sugar than anyone OUGHT to eat in a healthy meal, but hey, it's better than last night's fodder, which consisted of about 8 cans of knockoff red bull gotten for 25p a 350ml can, and about five bags of squidgelets, washed down with beer and coke.
It was diet coke though so that makes everything nice and healthy and OK again, right?
I'll say one thing for porridge ala Lestat Rett, however. I really do know how to make a very satisfying bowl of porridge. Two kinds of sugar, demerara to stir in as it cooks, dark muscovado melted over the top, with salty butter melted in and salt added generously, dissolved in the milk, the lighter, less rich demerara sugar to countermand the saltiness to just the right balance, while the topping gives one that 'OMFGDROOOOOOLLLLL' sensation with the merest sniff of the heady scent of treacle and molasses oozing off the hot bowl full and creeping towards one's nostrils with a beckoning vaporous finger saying 'come, commit mortal dietary sin and gorge on this and cold beer for breakfast'.
It even LOOKS sinful, gloriously, scrumptiously venial, all hot and steaming thick treacly fumes,
Diet food, it is not. But scrummy, oh yes, I do make a good bowl of porridge for me brekky. Nice and thick and stiff in consistency so it has to be yanked off the spoon between one's teeth, but which melts in the mouth, and well nigh screams out for a nice big gulp of cold, high quality lager or a pint of one's favourite bitter.