Comfort food, Food, food bloggers, food blogging, Pasta, personal, Recipes

Eating Your Feelings

spanish-chip-buttie

A Spanish Chip Butty from The Pen Factory in Liverpool. Unquestionably, one of the best things I’ve eaten this year.

I haven’t felt much like writing recently. I started 2017 with so many great plans and amazing intentions. This, I told myself, would be my year. But so far, things haven’t been going according to plan. Work has been slow and my many (many) hustling emails have mostly been met with a ‘no’ or – even worse – no reply. Numerous opportunities have fallen through. The sink is blocked. I broke a nail. I pulled my favourite necklace out of its box last week to discover that it had snapped in two. Trump is president and seems to be on a mission to cause as much damage as possible. And my Dad had a heart attack.

There was no prior warning, no prep time. Just an unexpected phone call from my brother one Friday night informing me that my Dad was in surgery. It’s not my Dad’s first medical emergency, or even his first heart attack, but no matter how many times you find yourself in this position, it still comes as a shock. As I write this, he’s recovering from a heart bypass and growing increasingly weary of being stuck in hospital. I can’t say I blame him. Thankfully, he’s recovering well. Hopefully, he’ll be discharged by the end of this week, but in the interim, I spend my time flitting between Liverpool and Manchester. The house I live in, the house I grew up in and the hospital adjacent to where both of my siblings were born.

fullsizerender

It would be a lot to deal with even if it wasn’t all happening during January, that long dark Monday of the soul. So, I cope with it in my own way. I switch Twitter off. I read. I go on long bike rides around the wild, ragged coastline near my house. I watch an unhealthy amount of ‘America’s Next Top Model’ (while simultaneously praising and cursing Amazon Prime). And I cook.

I read this Bon Appetit piece yesterday about the joy that can be found in cooking for others. One paragraph in particular really leapt out at me. Mincing onions, making stock, kneading dough, and setting a table with care shouldn’t, and can’t, replace volunteering, protesting, and other forms of activism. But building and caring for community is absolutely vital right now. My hope is that this kind of nourishment—real food, made with love, for myself and for my friends—will better equip me to engage in the long fight ahead.’

I tell myself that I am cooking for the people I love – lunch for my husband to take to work with him, dinner for my Mum so she has something warm and nutritious to eat when she comes home late from the hospital. But I am also cooking to heal myself. I cook because cooking is an all consuming process. You follow these steps and (usually) something delicious will result in the end. I cook because cookbook writing is an art, and because a good cookbook can be read in the bath like a novel and transports you to places you never even knew existed. I cook because butter always makes things better. And I cook because in the hardest of times, we need to look after ourselves and others. We need to nourish our bodies and minds for the struggles ahead, to provide ourselves with comfort and strength when the obstacles feel almost insurmountable.

It is easy to dismiss thinking and writing about food as being a frivolous act when huge events are taking place in the world. But I place just as much importance in ensuring the people around me are well fed as I do in other radical activities. We still need full bellies and comfort food in dark times, whether that be brownies warm from the oven, an enormous plateful of Shepherd’s Pie, or just a giant bag of Doritos and hummus to munch on while watching your favourite film. Today, I will be heading over to Manchester and making a pot of bolognese sauce for myself and my Mum – some for tonight, and some to freeze for later when the thought of cooking from scratch seems like an impossible task. Food is good. Food is important. Sometimes it’s OK to eat your feelings.

Some Comfort Food recipes I’ve been cooking recently:

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Food, food bloggers, food blogging, Healthy eating, Kale, Pasta, Recipes

Recipe: Spaghetti with kale, anchovies and chilli

Kale pasta 2

For someone who is so vehemently anti January food bullshit, I feel a bit guilty about my first post of 2016 involving kale. I mean, it’s kale. The poster child for all things ‘healthy.’ But (and hear me out here), I feel that kale gets a bit of a bad rep. Primarily because people don’t bother to use it properly. They add it to smoothies (NO), they use it raw in things like Caesar salads (DOUBLE NO) and they think that they can make it more palatable by giving it a good old massage. (Yes, that’s really a thing).

Kale is not a premier league footballer. It will not become more palatable if you give it a thorough rub down with some olive oil and whisper sweet things into its ear. However, it does become absolutely delicious when you blanch it, fry it with some anchovies, garlic and chillies and throw it into a big pot of pasta.

This recipe for spaghetti with kale, anchovies and chilles is one of my winter staples. It’s quick, it only involves one pot and it is pretty much impossible to mess up. The leftovers also make a cracking lunch which is great if (like me) you’re trying to save money this month by ignoring the siren call of Pret.

I can’t remember where I first discovered this recipe, but it must have been from somewhere because originality with kale has never been my strong point. (Out of interest, if the person who invented this recipe is reading this, please leave a comment so I can find you and buy you a pint.) While it may not make you love kale, it may help you to at least make a truce with it.

Quick note: This blog is now a whole year old! Thank you so much to everyone who is reading this, both old and new. I hope you enjoy reading my rambings about food and fashion as much as I enjoy writing them. 

Kale pasta

Spaghetti with kale, anchovies and chilli (Makes two decent sized portions)

You will need:

  • 140g spaghetti (I prefer to use wholemeal here, but I’ve used white spaghetti to make this too and it works just as well)
  • 1/2 bunch of kale, ribs removed and sliced into strips
  • 1 tin of anchovies
  • 2 fat cloves of garlic, sliced thinly
  • 1 teaspoon of dried red chillies
  • 1 lemon
  • A good handful of grated parmesan
  • Salt and black pepper

Make it!

  1. Cook the pasta in a good amount of salted boiling water. When the pasta is just about ready (roughly 8-10 minutes into cooking), throw in the kale. You want it to just be blanched so it’s not too tough.
  2. Drain the pasta and kale, reserving a tablespoon of the cooking water for the sauce.
  3. Thoroughly dry the pan you used to cook the pasta and kale (this step is important – water and oil DO NOT mix.) Heat two tablespoons of oil and add the anchovies with the oil they’re packed in. You want to break the anchovies up as they cook so they form a paste. Add the sliced garlic and fry for 30 seconds. Then add the dried chillies and cook for another 30 seconds.
  4. Add the cooked pasta and kale to the anchovy, garlic and chilli mixture and mix thoroughly to combine. Grate the zest of the lemon over everything (I like to squeeze the juice of the lemon over the pasta as I think this adds a nice bit of pep. However, this is totally optional.)
  5. Serve topped with the grated parmesan, salt and black pepper. Feel free to add a touch more chilli to the mix if that’s your thing. After all, it’s January and it’s cold out there.
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