Sue made a roast this week.
It was scrumptious.
The meat was tender, and the roasted potatoes were excellent, as was the gravy.
The carrots too.
They were roasted to perfection, which means that there was some blackening.
At this stage they don't even taste like carrots, which is why I like them, and the only way that I like carrots.
Carrots must not taste like carrots according to my weird little taste buds.
Oddly enough, raw is the only way that my grandson will eat them, so if we have him over for a meal like this, Sue gives his weird, little taste buds a side dish of uncooked carrots.
Of course, this ↓ is how they should look although a little blacker would also be fine.