Confessions of a nosh-lover.

I’d like to say that I got through crimbo without eating any chocolate, but that would be a fib. It happened to be in a bit of cake and on a biscuit. Salt intake has been kept to zilch in my own cooking, but it’s a major bmr when noshing out on other’s cuisine.

Over the months I have noticed how salty, fatty and sweet our world is. How easy it is to insult someone by saying you can’t eat what they have cooked, and then giving in quietly the next time, to keep the peace. People get touchy about food and drink, especially when they know what going without means. You eat what you have and that’s that.

Another crimble is imminent next weekend, followed by other people’s slavas, all in January. Seven course dinners will test my resilience. If there is Hungarian salami in the mezze, I’m screwed. It’s costly stuff, forget Italian salamis, Hungarian is the emperor!

I won’t be going to all feasts I’ve been invited to. And there is a wholly vegan n fish side to the cuisine which I will partake in at home, minus the salt – difficult with salted cod, polenta – minus the cheese, sauerkraut minus the smoked ribs. Then I will get fed-up with all of it and revert to brown rice and lentils, raw fruits and veg.

Our relationship with food is linked to our connection to wars, famines, poverty, community and domestic strife. Balance is possible across the globe. We don’t need to live in extremes of not having enough to producing too much. We can alter traditions too, if we wish.

Then there’s Chinese New Year…

I still dream of an orchard in the sun. Fruits kissed by sunshine is surely the essence of life. 

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