Embrace Unoriginality

The curse of the "I saw Cady Heron wearing army pants and flip flops" complex

Food For Thought.

A love note to sunlight

If the sun shone into my flat eight hours a day, I would feel no need to leave it. Perhaps this is how I survived the first lockdown. Unseasonably warm, the sun would enter my living room at around 9.30am and stay for approximately 4-5 hours. Which meant coffees tasted sweeter, my reading corner (or corners, as I regularly move with the sun) was elevated and I almost forgot about the whole not being allowed outside thing.

My brother used to question why I was so obsessed with being in the sun. He thought it was a vanity thing (he wasn’t totally wrong; I feel like I look my best with extra freckles and a sweet tan), and couldn’t understand why my mood shifted so much with the weather. The answer isn’t complicated: everything is better in the sunshine. And I love winter sun perhaps even more than summer sun, because it feels like more of a reward when you can unfurl, undo a coat button and sit under it with a coffee or an al fresco lunch.

All my favourite food memories are soaked in sunlight. Quietly eating an apple and drinking cold coffee from a mason jar on a mountainous trail in Washington with my friend Savannah. Tasting Mr Sunil’s breakfast sandwich (egg, noodles, chutney) for the first time on the side of the main road from Ahangama to Weligama. Drinking coffee overlooking the winery I worked on in Northern California in 4ºC weather with the sun high in the sky. Drinking cold beers at sunset on Maderas beach with my brother, watching the surfers catch their last waves. Or just reading a book on a late Saturday afternoon in my London flat.

I’ve discovered that the best way to enjoy winter sun is to be alone with it. I like to prepare a couple of jammy eggs on butter-drenched toast, drink too much coffee, sit on the floor, read last week’s paper, open the window wide, bask in the warm glow of a sun that’s all too temporary, moving with it until there are only shadows.

Nothing is original, long live originality

I am not a cheater (I have a hyperactive guilty conscience so cheating is anathema to my entire being), but I am a copy cat. ‘Copying’ has been pathologised and demonised so much in modern society, because we’re all obsessed with originality – even though we’re acutely aware that realistically, nothing is original. I think it has something to do with social media (what doesn’t) and the rise of ‘the personal brand’, which means that even if we’re not marketeers or influencers, we’re all in some ways trying to sell a version of ourselves online, engaging in one-upmanship whether it’s through what we’re eating, where we’re travelling or what our homes look like.

I think a lot about whether what I’m doing is original, because these days, there are countless newsletters and countless food writers, and I’m wondering whether my ‘takes’ on life are just versions of other people’s takes, seeing as I spend 90% of my time consuming content in the cultural echo chamber that is this side of the internet. I re-read the viral Anthony Bourdain ‘Enjoy The Ride’ quote that’s been doing the rounds and thought: this is pretty much a SNOA manifesto. And then it occurred to me how deeply unoriginal I actually was, because like everyone else, I am simply paraphrasing Anthony Bourdain on a weekly basis.

I think about individuality even more when it comes to what I wear. The outward expression of who we are, finding the right clothes to suit our personalities – which are varied and flexible and often evolve more than we’d like to think – is difficult, especially when we’re so easily influenced. I went out for dinner with my most stylish friend, Lucy, and immediately wanted to buy the Rejina Pyo shirt she was wearing (so chic). I feel forever haunted by that classic Mean Girls line: “I saw Cady Heron wearing army pants and flip flops. So I bought army pants and flip flops.” Lucy knows that I have shameless bought two iconic pieces of her wardrobe (kept one, returned the other), but I hope she sees it has a sign of appreciation and total adoration.

There was a time that my lack of originality really affected me. I would wonder if anything I had ever liked was totally inherent to my being, or whether this personality I’d carved out for myself was just a product of thousands upon thousands of other people’s thoughts (hi capitalism, hi consumerism, hi social media). Then I realised that essentially, yes this was probably true, and that’s ok, because I am largely happy, although I know that I could do a lot more to challenge these opinions with those that are very different to my own – whatever ‘my own’ means in this context.

It’s a cliché, but it’s true that no one else can replicate your existence. Because you are made up of cells and stories and experiences and meals and scars and memories that are like a jagged little jigsaw puzzle that can only amount to: you. So embrace unoriginality on the outside. Cook the meal someone else made for you. Drink the cocktail your friend ordered. Joan Didion said she writes to find out what she thinks. So perhaps we copy to find out what we really like.

Recipes-not-recipes™️

I wrote a piece on London’s best pasta restaurants a couple of weeks ago. I never thought I’d say this but I’m kind of ready to not eat pasta in restaurants (she said, until she returned to Campania & Jones and had perhaps the best meal of her London life). But pasta at home is still a thing, and this one was a super quick, meat-free ragu, which although is not usually my vibe, was super tasty and took less than an hour to prep, make and serve.

For two people, you’ll need:

• 1 medium carrot, finely diced

• 1/2 white onion, finely diced

• 2 garlic cloves, finely chopped

• 1/4 leek, halved then thinly sliced

• 3 portobello mushrooms, finely diced

• 3 veggie sausages (we used THIS)

• 2 tbsp tomato paste

• 3-4 tbsp passata

• Fresh thyme

• Pinch of chilli flakes

• Salt and pepper

• Half a pack of pappardelle

• Optional: splash of balsamic and 1/2 tsp sugar

Throw the chilli flakes, fresh thyme, carrot, onion, leeks + garlic into a pan on medium heat that’s shimmering with lots (maybe 4 tbsp?) of olive oil. Pop the lid on. Once the veggies have softened a little (maybe 8-10 minutes), add the veggie sausages (like normal ones, I squeezed the ‘meat’ out of the casings), and make sure it hits the bottom of the pan for max heat and cooking time. Once they’re looking cooked, add the mushrooms and put the lid back on so they can cook. After about 5 minutes, in goes the tomato paste and passata and some seasoning to taste. Let that all marinate together for another 10/15 minutes. You could add a splash of balsamic vinegar and a little sugar here for depth. Cook the pappardelle as per instruction, save a little pasta water, and when it’s all done, transfer the pasta to the sauce and add some pasta water. Let it get all glossy then serve up with some grated parm/pecorino/grano padano, and a big glass of red.

Leftovers.

1. My piece for The Modern House on London’s best pasta restaurants. Drink every time you see me write ‘pillowy’, ‘glossy’ or ‘bright and bold’ (as picked up by my editor…)

2. Why are we’re all so obsessed with wanting more (answer = capitalism, but that’s another topic for a wine-fuelled dinner party), how about wanting less, as per Arthur Brooks’ advice?

3. Obviously I’m watching Inventing Anna on Netflix, because I love a good scammer story.

4. Would recommend listening to this (as opposed to reading it) piece on friendship – it’s about 54 minutes which is pretty much the same amount of time it takes to unload your dishwasher, cook a pot of rice, fry and egg in butter with sage, lovingly slice an avocado and massage some kale with chilli oil, vinegar, honey and sesame oil and eat it for dinner.

5. Cavatappi pasta reminds me of the Pizza Express pollo pesto. This has similar energy but with more colour. Hetty McKinnon adds saffron and purple cauliflower for cuteness.

6. Have you ordered your copy of East Side Voices edited by Helena Lee yet? It’s a beautiful exploration of Asian identity and culture, featuring essays from the likes of actor Gemma Chan to writer Sharlene Teo.

7. Super quick and super simple, five ingredient courgette pasta from Alex Delaney. For the weeknight dinner when cooking feels impossible.

8. This quote from Edward Abbey, an American environmental activist and writer: “Growth for the sake of growth is the ideology of the cancer cell.” (cc. every start-up founder ever).

9. The jury’s still out on how I feel about Mob Kitchen, but I do find the dulcet tones of Jordan King quite irresistible, along with this bitter leaves, orange and feta salad that will 100% be going onto my V Day menu.

10. The energy of this cat is everything I aspire to.