Deep in the writer's cave, locked away in a
desperate attempt to meet a deadline for my next novel, can you imagine my
joy in finding at the very back of the fridge a bar of chocolate I didn’t know
existed.
Milk chocolate with almonds—perfect food to
fuel a deadline frenzy. I found it quite by chance, hunting for the remains of
a chocolate Easter bunny—I’d thought I had at least one chocolate ear left.
The toothsome treat was, no doubt, hidden
by someone in my family. So sorry, family. I’ll replace it when the manuscript is
delivered to my endlessly patient editor and I emerge from that dark cave. The
replacement bar will be safe then, as I will certainly be on a healthy eating
and exercise regime to make up for those weeks sitting in that cave. (Or
attempting to, anyway.)
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| What I found hidden in my fridge - sadly, not much left! |
You get hungry and lonely in depths of the writer’s
cave. There is only the company of imaginary friends. The
need for comfort food is real. Of course, writers cannot live on chocolate
alone. When I have turned away those who would mess
with my muse, ie, my family, (which means I have no one to cook for me in my
time of need) I have a few staples I turn to. One is a big pot of chicken and
vegetable soup I cook up and live off for days.
It’s a soup very much like the one my
mother used to make for me in times of stress—so there is most likely some
psychological element to its nourishment. There is no recipe to share with you.
It's a matter of just throwing everything into the saucepan.
I was a sickly child who suffered from recurring
sinus and chest infections. When I was too unwell for even the soup, my mother
would tempt my appetite (which never needs tempting these days, it's more in
need of taming) with fresh white bread-and-butter with honey, cut into tiny
triangles. When I would accept that, she’d know I was on the mend. Sadly, it
never tasted the same when anyone but my mother made it…
I've run out of chicken soup and it's a
long way to the shops from my mountain retreat. So tonight, to power the many
words I need still to write, I made a pumpkin soup—a favourite of many of us
Down Under. I stirred through it the very last of the zucchini from my garden, picked
at that tender, fingerling stage. Then served it with brown rice (pre-cooked in a packet) and
a blob of home-made pesto. It gave me the energy to write this post. And the
good thing is there’s enough left for tomorrow and maybe even the next day.
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| My quick-fix pumpkin soup |
Another somewhat decadent comfort food is
something our family simply calls "The Slice". Indulging in it is
reserved for special occasions, such as birthdays, as it is disgracefully rich in
butter and condensed milk. But I am refusing to give in to the temptation to
make a batch. I would have to crawl out of my cave for too long to make it. Just
another reason I was so delighted to find that bar of chocolate.
My dietitian-in-training daughter does not
approve of sugar hits for desperate writers nearing deadline. She does, however,
tell me that the creative process of writing uses up a lot of energy and I need
carbohydrate to fuel me. That does not mean chocolate. She approves of the
almonds because they are a good source of protein and other nutrients.
So I’m doing something right.
Now I’m craving baked beans on toast with
fried tomatoes and bacon—something I only ever eat in the cave. Trouble is I
don’t have any bacon. Or, for that matter, any baked beans. Only chocolate and
pumpkin soup.
Do you have a favourite comfort food you
turn to in times of deadlines and stress? I'd love to hear about it!
