Overwhelmed in the condiments aisle.

Slowing down, one BBC good food recipe at a time.

The year has turned. The year turned quite a while ago now but if I were a recipe, I’d be popped right into the slow cooker. The first month of school is over. My mum has always told us that comparison is the thief of joy, and she is of course always right. Yet hell hath no fury like the words “New Year, new me”. What made me delete Instagram in the first week of January was the disproportionate content we have all become determined to share, myself included. The sense of inertia was too much. As the year did close there came the best books that people I know on the internet have read this year, a little, a lot. So, I got a little bit angry again because many of the books I’ve had to read this year have either been Shakespeare plays or terribly written YA novels. Then, usually combined with a chunk of time away from real life, there were books I read in a week where I didn’t need to worry, and everything was good again.

I was stood in the kitchen with Zeb around Christmas time, ‘there was a week there where I didn’t take care of myself at all’, I paused, ‘I’m starting to think that my relationship to food might be changing – it’s like the more overwhelmed I am the more I think about nuggets and nachos.’ I think I was beginning to feel a bit out of sorts, the routine I have narrated throughout The Bluebook wasn’t as life-proof as I once thought. Preheating the oven for a Tesco own brand pizza felt so wrong but so right. Like a return to smoking, but this time it was mozzarella on a tomato base.

This isn’t a prologue to a New Year’s resolution. I’ve never had acupuncture but if I could somehow stick precise needles into the pressure points of inadequacy the world is able to nurture then I’d sure like to. If only to make them feel a little better. I’m not renouncing my weaknesses nor my guilty pleasures, and neither should you, but I think we can recognise how they make us feel – whether that’s food, social media or a to be read list that just won’t shut up. So here is what we’re going todo, I want to remember how the best meals of the past year made me feel. Yes, this is a highlight reel – but one should always reel responsibly. Instead of pinching my tummy, reciting a derogatory phrase about a moment on the lips measuring up to a lifetime on the hips I think I’d rather stick the middle finger up to the last of January by eating every meal I really loved once again, with you, in my lovely orange skillet.

1. Tuesday night? Pierogis?

If you’re ever in Cambridge you’ve got to try Polonia Club. It’s a regular treat for my friends and I. Whilst they’re not photographed here, the Polish pierogis are divine and should be chased with a slice of chocolate cake for good measure.

2. Valentine pancakes.

I’m sure everyone has their valentines day traditions, I sure did even when I was single. I think we’re on the brink of our thing being pancakes. Woo!

3. 48hrs in Lewes

Everyone should have a Claire. I’ll prove it to you by recounting our 48hrs in Lewes. Here is Claire with a sourdough and crab pate starter at a fancy restaurant before all the fancy people showed up. We were in hiking boots, on our way to spend a night listening to Nightingales sing. Get yourself a Claire.

5. Let them eat bread and meat.

I finally gave in and graduated in April. An excuse to take the family to Bread and Meat, a poutine restaurant in Cambridge. If you’ve never had poutine, I hope it’s because you’re vegan. Im talking chips soaked in cheese curds, gravy with a garnish of slow cooked meat. Mwah!

6. I’ve died and gone to Paris.

I’d never been to Paris with a boy before. But a boy agreed to go and so we went! Zeb was diligent and took me to all the bakeries and cheese mongers I could have dreamed of - in the pouring rain too! All was smuggled onto Eurostar return journey.

7. Once in a while, a treat.

I don’t know what I did to deserve friends with impeccable taste. I’m not going to jinx it, but what does deserve a mention is the set menu at Fancettes on Mill Road. Not pictured: the two portions of fries I accidentally ordered after going for a swim before a fancy meal..

8. I want a table one day.

An Ottolenghi tart with some impeccable crockery. Tools I only have access to whenever I dog sit, the one thing I am desperate for when I am a proper adult is a table of my own to welcome people to.

9. Noodles, don’t noodles.

I think about these noodles a lot.

10. We’ll always have Aosta.

It wouldn’t be a Blue Book stack without a mention of the Italian summer which started it all. If I do the maths, which I cannot, I made and ate an endless amount of meals for a constantly fluctuating amount of mouths. What I remember most of the entire experience was a woman called Natalia who constantly told me how much better she felt eating the food I was making, the fresh ingredients I was using . That’s what food should do.

11. Sushi round the corner.

And then I moved to Oxford. I’m lucky enough to live a two minute walk from the best sushi place in town. I’m settling in just fine.

12. Thanksgiving!

    

    2024 was the year I conquered a pumpkin pie and the year in which I first tasted the famous ‘pepto bismol’ cranberry sauce. One of my absolute favourite meals.

    13. A wellbeing waffle.

And if it all goes to shit. If it rains, the bus doesn’t come, if the computer runs out of battery and you’ve forgotten your packed lunch; G&D’s are open till late.

It’s often been pointed out to me that I return to my substack when I’ve been struck down in my prime, sick or otherwise. Whilst I’m not saying this is true I can confirm that yesterday I slept for 12 hours and have vowed that the only thing I’ll do this weekend is keep an eye on the proving of a sourdough bread loaf. I didn’t slow down in January, but I feel as if I am starting to.