If my life was a book, the chapters would be named after food and cravings. I can’t always specifically recall what I did last week or last month, but I can tell you what I had and where I was previous weekends with the food I ate.
Strawberry ice cream was Friday night at home, watching the Graham Norton show.
A lobster roll with crispy chips was Saturday at Soho House reading the papers and having lunch with friends (followed by a slice of carrot cake and ginger sorbet)
Juicy prawn dumplings and hot Jasmine tea was Sunday at a dim sum restaurant in East London. Later that night, we ate a bag of plump lychees bought the previous day from a China Town grocery shop.
My wedding day, despite being a blur to me now, was a meltingly tender steak with two desserts (lemon meringue pie and a chocolate affigato)
My childhood, well into my teens (and let’s face it today) were peppered with the same go to snack and lazy meals of Indo Mee, the best instant noodles (and comfort) that 40p can buy.
My pregnancy has been littered with cravings. The early months when I could barely stomach anything that wasn’t chips or bread. Each milestone reached has been given a helping hand with the flavour of the moment- oranges one week, buttery toast and jam the next.
Summers are watermelon and Winter is hot chocolate and spices. Spring, is most definitely hot cross buns.
I look forward to the unwritten chapters; will they be familiar? Brand new? I’ll wait and see with my current love- milk and a Penguin biscuit.