Carrots and blood oranges on toast, with a little essay about spring and being by myself.
I am very slowly remembering how to cook. I am very slowly trying to organise my life again; to clean the kitchen and hang out laundry and get to bed […]
I’m not going to recap the last months for you: my column at The Pool does it in real-time, with occasional in-depth pieces at The Toast, if you’re interested. Because […]
It is difficult to eat with both arms hooked up to an IV: with the double whammy of a drip on both left and right, you need something portable, tidy, and absolutely full of nutrients. When eating is tricky, every mouthful has to absolutely count. (And, if you aren’t really eating, because you are so tired and stressed that everything tastes of ash- which is a true thing that happens, by the way- the same applies.)
So I found these bars. And they were (almost) perfect.
There is no better cure for fear than making a soffrito. I might have written this before: it’s still true. There is no room for fear in soffrito, no room […]
An aubergine dip thing: salty, smoky, a little sweet, a little rich, a little sharp. And quick, and so absurdly easy! So absurdly easy I felt a little guilty for writing this recipe up like this, but I am trying to leave all my guilt and stress and grief in the lockers and write and swim without it. Just for a while. So here we are: an aubergine dip. We ate it spread on flatbreads with some spring onion, and it was beautiful. Just right for early damp summer.
My grandfather is dead: I do not know how to grieve. So I make bread.