I know, I know - not food. But I'm not part of many communities and I figured the folks here would appreciate this. This is how my wife and I spend most of our Friday nights - a fire, a surprisingly drinkable box of red, and each other. It's by far my favourite part of the week.
Incidentally, we often have a meal plan for the night, which is typically scrapped in favour of our 13 year old rustling up a curry, which she's always happy to do!
That's beautiful mate. My husband and I spend our Fridays playing cards and drinking beer and soju. When it gets dark we put the disco lights on, play some awesome music through the wharfedales and keep drinking. Saturday morning is recovery day. We always have a blast. Even more when our adult child isn't there.
Love it! Friday nights are sacred. We always try to keep the Saturday morning suffering to a minimum so we can be productive, but it rarely works out... ๐
Sometimes Saturday nights we sit outside and burn shit, listen to music and drink a couple of beers or hot chocolates while waiting for our spuds to cook but it gets cold in Melbourne so that only happens every few weeks.
We love a fire. We're in Coffs Harbour so it doesn't get as cold as you're used to, but it can still get pretty chilly this time of year. Our first 10 years of marriage we lived in Wisconsin, USA (the boss is American, though these days she tells people she's Southern Canadian), so I've definitely seen some cold weather! Our favourite thing ever is camping, so we try to recreate that as much as possible at home. The real bed at the end of the night is nice, but the chores are not!
You and the boss need to make some damper for that all round camping feel.
That used to be the job of the eldest, before both kids retired from camping (to zero complaints from us! ๐ ). The boss was a chef and a pastry chef for 2 decades and feels that she's made more than enough bread for one lifetime. In the states she worked at a resort and found a really old grapevine on the property and made her own sourdough starter from it, that was good sourdough! Until one of her dishwashers "washed" the stockpot it lived in...