Cold February Day? Cauliflower Cheese and Fries for Dinner

^{Source - How to make cauliflower cheese by Justine Pattison, BBC Food}

It was a cold, gloomy day yesterday - the first of February.

January was out of the way, the days were getting longer, maybe we were through the storms, but there was still a cold wind, grey skies and the threat of rain.

I'd eaten the requisite number of legumes, nuts and seeds, fruits and vegetables through the week, and a hearty beef daube with leeks and mushrooms and creamy mashed potatoes was on the menu for the evening.

But as I came in from the chilly porch, my chores for the morning complete, I was ready for a cup of tea and something unctuous and comforting. Something I could curl up with on the sofa and watch some easy going crime series where the detective always gets her man or woman.

I opened the fridge and there waiting for me, with a shy glint in her eye, was a cauliflower cheese and, sitting alongside her, a punnet of air fryer ready french fries. What could be more delightful than dipping fresh, crisp fries into melting, still slightly bubbling and scalding hot savoury cheese sauce with islands of tender cauliflower?

Within ten minutes, I was curled up under a throw, my meal on a tray on the coffee table, knitting waiting quietly in the basket beside me, iPad tuned to Channel 5, home to repeats of Sunday evening period dramas and untaxing detective yarns. That first dip, loading as much cheese sauce as possible, blowing on it just in case it was still hell-fire hot, then getting it to your mouth without losing a drip, cup of tea ready to wash it down. Perfect.

Of course, you could have a salad on the side, or add sweetcorn and tomatoes, but it wouldn't be right, really, wouldn't have the right note of decadence and comfort, and time taken from all the things that have to be done. The only real option, should you have a freezer compartment, would be to follow with one of those complicated ice creams with salted caramel and pralines or possibly a jam doughnut.

I can't remember when cauliflower cheese arrived in my life. We used to have a dish called vegetable mornay which was lots of vegetables in a cheese sauce put under the grill for extra melted cheese and almost burnt bits. I remember the recipe arriving in a woman's magazine and my mum making it her own until it became a family favourite.

We had a debate the other day about whether cauliflower cheese being off the menu in a carvery was grounds to walk out and find somewhere else for sustenance, even if that turned out to be fish and chips. We couldn't work out whether it would be cutting off your nose to spite your face or the only logical conclusion. It would certainly show the carvery, we decided.

Macaroni cheese, on the other hand, was a dish I had grown up with from very young, always at home and amongst family, served with tinned plum tomatoes and thick slices cut from a split tin loaf and generously buttered. The acidity of the tomatoes cutting through the creamy cheese and butter as the tomato juice mingled with the cheese sauce slowly turning it pink, the whole lot soaked up with bread.

I remember the first time I had macaroni cheese with chips. It was in The Foy Boat, a pub I worked in on the weekends, packed on Fridays and Saturdays, hardly room to get through to the bar, and like a ghost ship on Sunday evenings. I got a free lunch when I worked the day shift. The macaroni was from a tin, I wasn't sure how I felt about that, but once it was steaming on a plate in front of me, with proper chips, not fries, on the side, straight from the fryer, it was a different matter and went down a treat.