What I like about British food is the feelings it can evoke regarding where you eat it (or imagine you’ll be eating it).
A roast dinner, in a cosy country pub with a real fire on the go. Perfect after a wet and windy walk. Even more perfect that it’s been cooked by someone else and there’s no washing up to do.
Fish and chips somewhere on the coast. Am not a fan of eating meals whilst balanced on a wall or bench. But a tasty meal in a seafront F&C shop, followed by a walk along the beach, is lovely no matter the weather.
Sandwiches, especially when cut into fingers. Egg mayo and cress or cucumber, smoked salmon, chicken salad, coronation chicken, ham (take your pick from additions such as cucumber, pickle, cheese, mustard/mayo). They conjure up a simple picnic on a blanket in dappled shade, the sounds of summer punctuating your meal.
A Full English breakfast. But it’s got to be a good one - no grease, snotty eggs etc. I associate this with the anticipation of heading out for the day, or a long journey. Something that will see you through until your destination. Also reminds me of my aunt, in her farmhouse kitchen, preparing a lovely meal for everyone before they headed out for a hard day’s work.
The humble Yorkshire Pudding. I know it’s divisive, but I’ll happily add it to a number of meals. It goes with any roast dinner for me, not only beef. Lovely with sausages, veg and potatoes. Obviously toad in the hole. Again, it’s for a miserable winters day, when you want something comforting.
But I also love the fact that, over the past few decades, our food choices and availability have expanded so much. Young me in the 80’s could never imagine the amazing choice we have now, both for eating out or cooking at home.