Moving Food: For Me, A Steak
I am cocooned in a sea of boxes and enormous bags full of pointless unnecessary treasures. I have moved house.
It started in an organised fashion, but as time escaped descended into more chaotic survival packing, chucking everything into boxes, vaguely ordered by room, vaguely ordered by nonsense.
Surrounded by stuff, I was without all of it, for I had no idea where anything was. I know that all you organised kids are tearing your hair out now, shocked at the chaos of it all, but really, isn’t moving always like this, at least on some level for everyone?
Faced with the challenge of imminent overwhelming hunger and no plans for dinner, and no clue as to where to retrieve my kitchen tools at short notice, I uncovered the hob from beneath a stack of boxes, retrieved my bright orange cast iron pan as it was easy to spot, and charred a steak which was quickly and hungrily devoured.
Steak offers sustenance and it’s speedy food. A good steak tastes great, charred on the outside on a scalding hot griddle, and bright pink, meltingly tender and rare within, with only a sprinkle of smoked sea salt for company. Washed down with a nice Malbec, I can’t think of anything better. The pleasure I got from eating it offered moments of divine distraction, before I headed back into the sneezy wonderland that is unpacking boxes.
What do you reach for when you’re moving house, when every second is precious, and everything is packed away?