Balance? Never heard of it.
Not sure what you're talking about, I only know extremes.
Food For Thought.
As someone who has never owned a set of kitchen scales, balance is something I'm not very well-versed in. I'm more five martinis or stone cold sober; burger and fries or a green juice. If I'm not in the mood for cooking dinner, I rarely consider just making something simple like toast or instant ramen – it's take out, no holding back. All or nothing has its benefits, but swinging in extremes is often quite exhausting.
This trait trickles down into all aspects of my life: I'm either wildly excited about going out or diving under the duvet hiding from WhatsApp. Writing fervently into the night or pretending words don't exist. Helplessly needy or hopelessly aloof. Is it just me?
We're under immense pressure to achieve balance. We internalise articles about maintaining work-life balance, friendship balance, relationship balance, familial balance. We're fed narratives of humans who have either failed or succeeded to do so. We judge ourselves and others for not doing enough and doing too much.
Coming out of nearly two weeks of isolation, being removed from social interaction and having watched far too many Ocean's Eleven films, I think I've misunderstood what 'balance' really means. I thought it was about performative acts – whether that's eating healthy or matching time spent socialising with time spent alone. But I think it's less about what you do and more about how you feel. Taking the pressure off needing to appear balanced. Not being afraid to veer towards extremes, but also not indulging in them to escape your feelings either.
Sure, balance can look like a burger and a salad, or a cocktail and a smoothie; but it can also look like taking a step back from having to make decisions and allowing yourself to sit in discomfort. Or doing things for yourself instead of worrying about other people. I'm often confronted by mammoth waves of emotion, and the millennial concept of balance as I see it dictates that I should find a balance to help manage this onslaught. What would happen if we just let the wave hit us, pull us under, churn us around and spit us back out? (Anyone who has surfed may appreciate this analogy).
On Friday evening, I channelled my exhaustion and fed-up feelings into cooking a meal that takes patience. Podding peas and shelling broad beans (a labour of love), making a stock with the pods, slowly adding it to buttery onions and arborio rice, constantly stirring, waiting until the last minute to add the fresh ingredients. Then a showering of parmesan, olive oil and lemon zest. Eating a bowlful and not going back seconds – not because I was trying to shame myself, but because I recognised I was already satisfied. Doing all the washing up straight after (this never happens).
If balance is all about remaining steady (which is its definition as a noun), why are we always leaning more towards its definition as a verb: "to offset or compare the value of (one thing) with another"? Balance shouldn't be about comparison or guilt or shame. We are all walking a tight rope and we all tremble and fall off. Often because we're pitting what 'balances' us against each other. Dieting vs binging. Toxic relationships and everlasting love. Pleasing others or ourselves. Finding balance is just about feeling like there is a safety net underneath the tight rope. For me, that's often a good meal, a soft bed, a voice on the other end of the phone and yes, probably a martini (or five).
I'm currently writing this from a room at The Hoxton overlooking Blackfriars Road. Flipping isolation on its head and ignoring any notions of 'balance', or at least how other people define it. Taking time out of the everyday to set intention, write without restraint and 100% to order room service.
Here's to our own definitions of balance and throwing ourselves underneath the waves once in the while,
Cat x
Recipes-not-recipes™️
One for when you've got literally nowhere to be but your kitchen in front of a chopping board, a bottomless glass of wine and a podcast episode to keep you company (like this one from The Cutting Room Floor on Leandra Medine). Obviously fresh broad beans or peas are not a must – thank you Wholegood for sending me some! – so frozen ones are perfect for throwing in at the end. The state of meditation I achieved by painstakingly shelling broad beans was transcendental though.
This is a riff on Polpo's Risi e Bisi, so I won't take any credit for the recipe. I cooked it in my beloved Le Creuset, Christine, perfectly sized for two people, or one person plus some leftovers, depending on your definition of balance.
1/2 cup of peas + broad beans
1/2 cup of arborio rice
1 cup of stock (I made one out of the pea and bean pods + 1/2 onion + salt, but you could use veg stock)
1/4 white onion, finely diced
2 garlic cloves, finely diced
A handful of grated parm (plus more for serving)
Knob of butter
Glug of olive oil
Salt + peps
Sweat the onion and garlic in the butter on a low-medium heat, adding a little olive oil so it doesn't burn. Once it's looking translucent and soft (about 5-7 minutes), add in your rice. Coat it in the butter so it's glossy, then start ladling the stock. Keep stirring and adding (it'll probably take about 30-40 mins, so settle in) – you want the consistency to be soupy. I also added a little homemade chicken stock halfway through to give it a little extra flavour, but wouldn't recommend using chicken stock for the whole thing because it kind of takes over IMHO. Salt + peps as desired. Once the rice is cooked but still has bite, take it off the heat add the parmesan, peas and broad beans – stir through and serve it up. Add a little more stock if it's looking thick. Shower with more parm, drizzle with olive oil and zest a lemon. Pair with the satisfaction that patience does in fact exist and enjoy in bed because let's face it, you deserve it.
Leftovers.
Obsessed with this new notion that tinned fish is hot girl food. Sign me up.
I believe in confit everything, especially aubergine c/o Rebekah Peppler.
In between meals (or during), would recommend reading this excerpt from Sally Rooney’s new novel.
This soy-sauce garlic bucatini from Seema Pankhania is top of my list of dishes to make next week.
Also these Korean braised potatoes from Lisa Kitahara.
Lol I made a reel about courgette chilli pasta. I have no idea how these work.
Thinking BLTs are going to have a real renaissance in my life.
I could not love Rachel Alice Roddy’s Italian friends saying pasta shapes anymore. It’s my version of meditation.