Sunday roast

I love my Sunday roast.  I love cooking it and I love eating it.

But I remember one Sunday, when I was in my teens , standing chattering to my mother in the kitchen about some inconsequential matter as she prepared our Sunday dinner. It was seeing her cut a small piece of the joint off each end that stopped my chattering.

‘Why did you do that?’ I asked puzzled.

My mother shrugged. ‘I’m not sure really. I suppose it’s because that’s what your grandmother, my mother, used to do.’

I was curious. So next time I saw my grandmother I asked her.

‘Why do you cut a small piece off each end of the Sunday roast, Grandma?’

My grandmother laughed. ‘Oh! That’s just so that I can fit it into my roasting time,’ she said.

A silly story, a silly action. But it did make me wonder why we do certain things – in church – at work – in the home -with family and friends.  Is it habit? Is it because we’ve always done things that way and never got round to questing why?  If so then perhaps we’re wasting our time – wasting those two end pieces of the joint.

What do you think?



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