The Hits: Flash roasts not to my taste

The Hits DJs, Megan Banks and Adam Green. Photo / NZME

OPINION:
How would you feel about a friend showing up on your doorstep, Sunday afternoon, uninvited with about four hours needed to complete the visit?

Because I recently heard of a random act of kindness that struck deep anxiety into the unwelcoming on Sunday parts of me.

It's known as a flash roast. No not the kind of roast you see on Comedy Central where people tear shreds off some poor celebrity in search of a laugh, (the one where someone told Donald Trump, "You've disappointed more women than Sex and the City 2"). No, an actual meat roast with all the trimmings.

You're sitting there, in your Sunday T-shirt and track pants, small OJ stain on the chest, microwave popcorn on a stool in the middle of the lounge, about to set off episode six in the newest show you got addicted to that morning, perhaps the breakfast frying pan still sits forlornly in the sink "soaking" while you drink rose from a plastic cup, and KNOCK, KNOCK on the door.

Hoping it's some sort of Sunday courier, you rush off to the bathroom asking your eldest child to "check who's at the door" on your way past.

The door swings open, and you hear the cheerful greeting of your friend. Recognising the voice, you think to yourself, "Oh it's just those guys, I'll pop a fresh T-shirt on, quickly say hi and send them on their way".

You arrive in the kitchen to be greeted with a pan of lamb, a bag of fresh asparagus, six spuds, six kumara, two parsnips and some errant carrots. What is this? You think to yourself? Have they brought their groceries inside to chill?

Oh no. Oh no, they haven't. "Surprise!" They announce, "Flash Roast Time" But... a roast doesn't cook in a flash. You think, plus the spud container from Friday is in the oven and you forgot to wash it!

"We're on dinner tonight" they cheerfully sing, pulling the potato peeler from the drawer. "Yay", announce the excited kids as their two tiny friends make it in from the car.

"Yay!" you announce externally while making internal calculations about the time. "If it's 3.30 now, and we put the roast in half an hour then rest after cooking eat and get dishes done, I should have an empty house by... Christmas."

By all means, cook me a roast, just maybe don't turn up in a flash!
- Adam Green