When I was a child every Sunday was roast day.
The meat was almost always mutton served with gravy and mint sauce and accompanied by roast potatoes, carrots and other vegetables in season. My favourite was swede and I dreaded early spring when it we had to eat broad beans.
Left over cold meat provided the filling for sandwiches for school lunches for the next couple of days. That was definitely preferable to the alternative of grinding it up and topping it with mashed potato for shepherds pie.
Ah how things have changed. Sunday dinners in our house are no longer the set pieces they were in my childhood and we rarely have roasts unless we’re feeding visitors. Even then we’re more likely to barbeque a boneless leg of lamb than roast it.
That’s probably the norm now which is no doubt why someone felt the need to make today national roast day.
To my farmer’s disappointment, we won’t be taking part.
UPDATE: Credo Quia Absurdum Est shows much more enthiusiasm for the celebration.