Food as a barometer

Earlier this year, I had a few weeks where I really wasn’t feeling myself. We hide it, as we often do, but one friend saw it. And the one thing that made her know something was off, was food.

We were having coffee. I ordered millionaire shortbread. A triple-shot large flat white on an empty stomach was never going to be a great idea.

There were a few of us there on that spring afternoon, huddled around a table and the conversation moved over to food, as it often does.

What are you having for dinner? That halloumi recipe you did looked good!..salmon stir fry? Ah, my lot aren’t keen on fish.….

I had nothing to say.

I didn’t know what we were having for dinner and I genuinely didn’t care. I quietly ate my shortbread.

My friend asked what I’d had for lunch. I shrugged through a mouthful of crumbs. Nothing. I hadn’t eaten anything for lunch. I just couldn’t be bothered. I had no interest at all. She looked at me while the others were engrossed mid-their-own-conversation and she asked if I was ok.

She knows food is part of me. How important it is — what I eat, the process of preparing the food, the alchemy of creating a dish from separate ingredients, the act of gathering around the table, together to share food. Sure, there are times when it’s last-minute or I’m out of ideas or can’t make a decision or I just don’t feel like cooking, but this was different.

Since then, I’ve come to see my interest in food as a barometer to how I’m feeling. I know something’s out of kilter if my interest wanes.

But it works both ways. It’s easy to lose interest in something if you don’t take an interest in it.

This week’s lunch was an example of just that.

There might be some leftovers lurking in your fridge right now that just need you to take an interest in return for an interesting lunch.

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This week’s lunch

Spiced up bubble & squeak

Not knowing what I was going to make for lunch, in my fridge forage I found enough for a single serving of bubble & squeak made from leftover mash and tenderstem broccoli.

Simple and simply delicious. Honestly, I was so excited to be tucking into a bit of bubble on a Tuesday lunchtime. That’s one of the many wonderful things about working from home, you get to create all kinds of concoctions from whatever food you have in, and, in this case, food that might’ve ended up in the bin, because what are you going to do with a few spoonfuls of mash and four spears of broccoli?

Traditionally, bubble & squeak* uses cabbage. But as I had broccoli — it’s still a brassica — I used that. They give that wonderful caramelised flavour when they catch in the pan!

• Leftover mash

• Leftover cooked tenderstem broccoli

• Spring onion

• Red chilli

• Cold pressed rapeseed oil

• Salt & pepper

• Eggs

To the mash, I added the chopped up broccoli, spring onion and red chilli. Then fried it in a little oil on a skillet, carefully moving the mixture into a round cake shape, turning evenly to ensure a nice distribution of crispy bits and served it with two fried eggs.

* Why is it called bubble & squeak?

The origins of the name bubble and squeak are not known, but there is a reference in the "Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue" from 1785: "Bubble and squeak is beef and cabbage fried together. It is so-called from its bubbling up and squeaking while over the fire." — The Spruce Eats