From meal deals to bacon alfredo: How Gousto made me a person who cooks

Extra.ie​

2 days ago

As someone whose diet largely consists of Tesco meal deal sandwiches, crisps, and the occasional canapé wrestled from a waiter at an ambiguous brand event, I can say with confidence: I am not what you'd call 'culinarily inclined.'
My oven has mostly served as storage. My fridge contains three questionable yoghurts, an unopened RedBull and a bottle of pr gifted prosecco I've been saving for a night I'm home before 10pm.
So when I heard that Gousto, the UK's cult-favourite meal delivery service, had finally made its way to Ireland, my first thought was: Great, another subscription I'll forget to cancel. As someone whose diet largely consists of Tesco meal deal sandwiches, crisps, and the occasional canapé wrestled from a waiter at an ambiguous brand event, I can say with confidence: I am not what you'd call 'culinarily inclined.'
However, when the team at Gousto reached out and asked if I wanted to trial run a box, the curiosity (and the memory of last night's dinner of plain pasta) got the better of me, could this be the answer to my chaotic, and mildly concerning lifestyle?
Spoiler alert for those who don't want to want to read the full thing, I cooked. With actual ingredients. From scratch. And I didn't burn anything. Here's how that minor miracle came to pass.
Naturally, when the box arrived, I wasn't home. I was at the office, frantically reading over Kneecap's court documents while balancing a lukewarm oat latte and wondering if I'd remembered to brush my hair that morning. So when I got the delivery notification, my heart sank, and visions of melting cheese, soggy herbs, and raw chicken fermenting on my doorstep filled my brain. My oven has mostly served as storage. My fridge contains three questionable yoghurts, an unopened RedBull and a bottle of pr gifted prosecco I've been saving for a night I'm home before 10pm.
But here's where Gousto truly earned its gold star with me, thanks to their clever packaging and some surprisingly zen logistics, my box was safely rerouted to a nearby bike shop for me to pick up after my shift. Now, the owner usually safeguards the odd ASOS package when I can't make it to the door, but I was surprised he took on this responsibility.
Hours later, long after my shift had ended, I made my way to the shop. I expected a limp cardboard crime scene. Instead? The box was still chilled, still intact, and honestly more put-together than I was. The ingredients were nestled in fully recyclable insulation, complete with ice packs that somehow hadn't given up on life.
Once I got the box open (and paused to marvel that nothing had leaked, wilted, or mysteriously exploded), I was genuinely impressed. Everything was perfectly portioned, no more half-used jars of pesto slowly fossilising in the back of the fridge. The produce was fresh, vibrant, and clearly sourced with care, proper Irish veg, no sad-looking spinach in sight. Each ingredient was neatly labelled, and the recipe cards were gloriously idiot-proof: big photos, step-by-step instructions, and timings that were actually realistic. View this post on Instagram
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I've never been someone who necessarily enjoyed cooking, at best, it's been something I squeeze in between deadlines just to keep myself alive and semi-functional.
Most evenings, the idea of chopping, timing, and trying not to poison myself feels like a full-blown endurance sport. But Gousto? Gousto took the fuss out of it.
For the first time in ages, I found myself actually enjoying the process, dancing around the kitchen while something delicious simmered on the hob. It wasn't just dinner, it was a small, unexpected moment of joy in the middle of a usually chaotic week. So when I heard that Gousto, the UK's cult-favourite meal delivery service, had finally made its way to Ireland, my first thought was: Great, another subscription I'll forget to cancel.
My personal favourite from the meals I chose was the Bacon Alfredo Linguine With Broccoli, a dish I've actually recreated since nabbing my first box.
Of course, it's not all perfectly diced onions and culinary enlightenment, there are a few things to keep in mind. First off, not being home when the box arrives can be tricky. I got lucky with the bike shop, but if you don't have a safe place for deliveries, you might find yourself playing a stressful game of 'Where's My Dinner?' across your neighbourhood.
And while everything was impressively fresh, the use-by dates on the produce and meat were all fairly tight, which means you need to plan your meals with a bit of strategy. No chucking the box in the fridge and winging it five days later, unless you fancy playing chicken roulette. I had to actually sit down and schedule what I was eating and when or risk letting that lovely chicken korma turn into a science experiment.
Logistics aside, I'd absolutely buy Gousto again with my own hard-earned, journalist-on-a-deadline money. For the first time in longer than I care to admit, I felt the weight of one daily responsibility, figuring out what to eat, just lift.
No frantic fridge raids, no half-hearted Deliveroo scrolls, no settling for dry toast at midnight. Instead, I actually got to enjoy my evenings. I had real meals, made by me, eaten at a table instead of over a laptop. It felt like a small luxury in a life that rarely slows down, and honestly, that kind of ease is worth every cent.
If any of this sounds like your life; perpetually busy, living off coffee and questionable snacks, and convinced cooking is an activity reserved for people with free time, I highly recommend giving Gousto a go.
It's not going to magically clear your calendar or do your laundry, but it will take the daily dinner dilemma off your plate (pun absolutely intended).