We All Need Time To Soften
When you begin to live in that chasm between who you really are and who you think you should be.
Food For Thought.
You will want it quickly. Hunger doesn't like to take things slow. There's a reason that our appetites are voracious and chaotic and careless when they're in need. Hunger doesn't think about the experience or even the taste. It thinks about being fulfilled. And when you stop being hungry, that feeling of being satiated doesn't stay forever. It wanes and returns on a loop.
So we find a way of feeding it. Not letting it go too long so we won't feel chaotic and voracious and careless. Love is a certain kind of hunger. If you don't feed it for a while and it's within your grasp, you grab at it with messy, insistent hands. You put it in a pressure cooker rather than let it simmer. You try to boil it straight away and eat it before it's ready. You burn your mouth or throw it down the sink or ache for it to taste as good as the recipe looked.
I am perceived as a steady person. Close friends and family might find this notion ridiculous. But I am known to be grounded, calm, relaxed. I have my rituals. I can be patient when it comes to cooking dinner. Less so when drinking a glass of wine. But there are times when insecurity overcomes me or I'm spinning out and I am hungry; this is when I become undone. When hunger gets in the way of taste. When pressure and expectations overcome longevity. When you begin to live in that chasm between who you really are and who you think you should be.
Expectations often get in the way of something great. In many ways I feel like I've lived my entire life in a pressure cooker. Career, friendships, relationships, money, security: the future. But as I get older, I realise that not everything in life can be planned. How many times have I began a dish, thinking it would turn out how it looks on the pages of a recipe book, and create something completely different – but no less delicious? Both the scheduled and the unknown can be messy and chaotic. Sometimes we'll start things slow. Like simmering a stock or stirring a risotto. And other times we'll charge ahead not knowing what will happen.
Steak is seared quickly; four minutes on one side, two on the next. Rosemary and thyme, crushed garlic. And butter. More than you think. You spoon the mixture over its charred skin. It darkens and deepens. It hisses at you. The salt pops and burns your skin. It doesn’t leave a mark. But then you must let it rest. The heat will stay. We all need time to soften.
Here's to taking the pressure off and putting unnecessary expectations to rest,
Cat x
Recipes-not-recipes™️
Courgette season lives. After three hours drinking orange wine with my friend Jordanne, I returned home knowing that the courgette grown in Andy’s mum’s vegetable patch would be turned into something delicious. This was definitely a case of wanting to eat it so incredibly quickly (because wine = hunger). But I exercised some patience (not a lot though). What speeds up this meal is pre-cooked butter beans (Bold Bean Co, ofc) and stock that you keep in your fridge for a rainy evening.
I heated up about 1/2 cup of stock (mine was chicken stock but it could be veg) and through in about 1/4 cup of fregola. While I let that simmer and cook the pasta through, I chopped 1/2 courgette into thick rounds then quarters and thinly sliced some sugar snap peas on the diagonal. Once the pasta tasted al dente, I added the courgettes and some butter beans (your choice on how many). I had some leftover chicken fat so that went in too, which gave it a real richness. Once everything was warmed through (about 5-8 mins) and the pasta was (pretty much) fully cooked, I took it off the heat and added a squeeze of lemon juice to cut through the fat, zested it skin and stirred the sugar snap peas through so they kept their crunch. Finally a showering of parm and finely chopped chives. And lots of pepper (but hold the salt, as your stock will probably be pretty salty; if not, make it rain). Eat with a hunk of bread to mop everything up at the end.
Leftovers.
Not sure how I missed Lara Williams’ debut novel Supper Club, but it’s going on my list.
How Junya Yamasaki describes “the taste of the oyster is the expression of the marine environment, the sea terroir.”
May we all spend our Sundays channelling Stanley Tucci’s big pasta energy.
Excited to eat this beef ragu from Belly, the new chef team at the Compton Arms.
Never not thinking about Meryl Streep as Julia Childs.
An accurate depiction of me drinking wine while it rained all week.
BRB making this tzatziki and pretending I’m on a Greek Island.