Went To Cornwall, Forgot How To Cook
It's been four days since I've cooked and I'm not mad about it.
Food For Thought.
We all have different motivations to cook. At times it's to fuel ourselves or to show someone you love them. Perhaps it's some kind of therapy/meditation that gets you out of your head. A ritual that brings meaning to your day. Or a way to be creative with no restraints. Some of these motivations are more emotional than others. Sometimes it's a necessity or an involuntary response; and other times you’re making a choice to do it.
But there are also times when cooking is not an option. Not because you aren't physically able to do it, but because you have no interest in it. No pull towards it. No energy to put into it. I haven't cooked since Tuesday night, and it's a rare thing. I made my most comforting meal for two hungover friends (brined chicken roasted over buttery rice) and then left at 6am the next day for a 7 hour drive down south without packing any leftovers.
Instead: a strangely satisfying ham and egg sandwich from a service station Spar, somewhat flavourless but deeply filled between two soft, bouncy slices of white bread. Then a bagel for lunch sat in the Cape Cornwall National Trust carpark. For dinner, precisely one beer and countless Burts crisps, scoffed around a fire whilst watching the sun dip beneath the horizon.
In the days that followed, what replaced my urge to cook was a need to rest. A low level exhaustion that made my body hum. It's the first time in a while that I didn't even consider cooking. The thought didn't cross my mind; as if I knew it was beyond me. Instead: fish and chips and sausage rolls and steak pasties and salad boxes and toast loaded with whatever was in the fridge. Falling asleep before 10pm. Zero rush to do anything. Swims but no pressure. The weather seemed to mirror my slow molasses movements, bringing an autumnal mist as I walked past old haunts and happily bumped into old friends, coffee and a croissant in hand.
I lay in bed, bleary eyed (thanks to a night nurse 10 hours before) one morning with my best friend Erin discussing boundaries. And perhaps this is one I never thought of: the boundary between my identity as Someone Who Cooks and Someone Who Needs To Just Not. How often do we play into the roles we carve out for ourselves and carefully curate on Instagram, reinforcing them through pictures and experiences and conversations? I often think that identity I've created is impenetrable – as if changing it would alter the fabric of my being.
Come Monday I'll be back in the kitchen. I've already got some ideas for a transitional soupy pasta (although this apparent heatwaves that's coming is really throwing me off my game). There'll be some crunchy salads and brothy beans and dips whipped up and the return of daily eggs. But for now: breakfast cooked by my parents and a dinner date with him that requires only a walk and a menu to share.
Here's to taking a break from the expectations we make for ourselves, cooking or not.
Cat x
Recipes-not-recipes™️
True to the theme of this newsletter, I can't possibly provide you with a recipe because scrolling through my camera roll in the last couple of weeks, I've basically cooked nothing apart from a roast chicken. But what I have done is consistently made a vinaigrette that has dressed everything from salad leaves to steamed green beans. I make this dressing almost daily, or at least have it in my fridge in a jar so if cooking is Not A Vibe, I can at least pretend to have made something tasty.
Double/triple this depending on how much you want, but this would probably dress either one big salad or two smaller dishes:
1 tbsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp wholegrain mustard
1 tbsp white miso paste
1 tbsp white wine vinegar
1 tbsp runny honey
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Salt and peps to your taste
Whisk everything together in a bowl and keep tasting. It's up to you and your tastebuds on how you want to adjust. You might need a little more acid, so add more vinegar or a squeeze of lemon. It might more sweetness so amp up the honey. not salty enough? Try more miso paste or just a little more salt. If it's not the right consistency, add the heavier ingredients to make it less runny, the liquid ones for the opposite effect. Fun things to add: chopped chives (but do it fresh; don’t let them sit in the dressing for days), black sesame seeds or poppy seeds.
Leftovers.
Might follow in Anja Dunk’s footsteps and make eggs and chips for dinner.
I’m obsessed with how Flynn McGarry dresses his tables at his NYC restaurant, Gem. Beans as a centrepiece? 1000000% yes.
The simplicity of beans and tomatoes is audacious and I’m here for it.
Maybe your mustard vinaigrette wants to get heated up with butter and then poured over potatoes so you can recreate this?
Jammy eggs, cheese, Guinness bread – take me to Cafe Cecilia immediately.
What happens when French vintners want to grow American vines, via the New York Times.