I’ve never been one for dieting, I don’t believe they work, and neither do I go in for ‘dry January’. That’s not to say I’ve been boozing it up this week, but I have been starting my mornings with a hefty bowl of porridge topped with double cream and decent raspberry jam.
Another supposed ‘no no’ for this time of year is baking sugary American-style muffins. I made this batch of pear and walnut jobbies last Friday from a fab Nigella recipe. My friend Hazel suggested serving them with blue cheese so I intend to try cooking up a more savoury version next, with a view to slathering them in creamy Dolcelatte.
Sunday was beautifully bright and fresh so I took our Jack Russell for a nice long walk on the Downs. There’s a gate post in the woods that always captures my imagination, because every time I pass through it I notice a different collection of found objects balanced delicately on top.
When home I cooked up a quick stew using some leftover chicken, carrot, celery, flageolet beans and kale. I served this with homemade Pecorino cheese and thyme scones, perfect comfort food.
Last week I cleared out my home office to start the year in a more organised manner than I ended the last. Keane has been hard at work giving it a new coat of paint and sanding back the wooden floor. I now have to decide what things I can bear to let go of. My mum’s two colourful handmade quilts, no matter how tattered they are, are certainly not destined for the textile recycling just yet.
We’ve eaten kale almost every day this week. It turns out our daughter has iron deficiency which came as a bit of a surprise to me because until now I’ve been feeling pretty smug about her eating habits. She’s getting some supplements prescribed but of course, I’ve been presenting her with kale at pretty much every opportunity in the hope she will suddenly develop a passion for it that matches my own. No such luck, but we did have a really tasty tea the other day: smoky butter bean, tomato and kale stew with grilled halloumi and sautéed potatoes.
At my uncle’s workshop I spotted this picture is of the modular high chair my grandfather designed for Mothercare in the Sixties. It turned out to be a best seller, making my grandad increasingly furious that he hadn’t secured a royalty deal for the design. The two parts fit together, giving parents the option to sit awkwardly before their offspring in a spartan ‘Mid Mod’ living room, or with their child at the dining table. Clever little thing.
And now the floor is sanded and stained, I had better get off and start putting all my clutter back on the walls.
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About Chloe King
I'm a freelance writer, designer and webby type. I live with my husband and daughter in the south of England. I like to cook and can throw a good party.
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