I thought I would start with a bit of classic Instagram fakery. It’s not complete fakery, in that it wasn’t intentional. Well it sort of was. Ok, let me explain.
It all went a bit wrong at the weekend. I’d cocked up the Tesco delivery (don’t judge me darlings, Ocado don’t deliver on the Isle of Wight apparently) so I dragged my poor husband up to Tesco-topia on a Bank Holiday Saturday and popped into the butcher on the way back to purchase 3 enormous bits of beef. I obviously pretended to know exactly what to do with them and to not be completely intimidated by 2.6kg of meat. The standard instagramming and hashtag frenzy began once we got home. #beef #bbqgoddess etc etc.
The plan was simple; BBQ the beef, finish it in the oven, then bask in the praise and glory from my guests. It didn’t work. The beef looked epic and after a few filters, some image sharpening and general tinkering I popped it on Instagram for my followers to see. With the obligatory squillion hashtags of course.
In reality, it was tough as old boots with quite an unpleasant amount of fat that hadn’t rendered down. Our guests were very polite and polished off all the salads, ate some of the beef and made all the right compliments. They did all then quite rightly agree that it would have been useful to have had an axe or chainsaw to cut through the meat.
But hey, Instagram didn’t know and even my boss referred to me as the BBQ queen when I got to work on Tuesday. Such is the ease of faking it on Instagram. #modernwife