Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Tempus fugit in corpore sano

I've been thinking about food today. Actually, I began by wondering where the morning had gone, and it was while I was making soup for lunch that the foodieness kicked in. T'other day I was checking out my messages (shopping, for the non-Glasgwegian) in the local Somerfield when it struck me forcibly how much I was spending. No booze, nothing fancy, one piece of pork fillet the only meat there - and it came to over £60. For two people. I stuck my credit card in the thingummy and commented that it hurt less than handing over cash.

'But you eat healthy food,' opined the youth who was serving me. I had taught him at some point in the past - a pleasant, polite sort of chap. 'It's expensive to be healthy.' I suppose he was looking at the veg and the "best ever" (or whatever) fruit, and the Tropicana juice and the soya milk - but he had a point. It's expensive not to buy the basic loss-leaders. It's expensive not to like the taste of Dutch hothouse tomatoes and to prefer Pink Lady apples. Expensive in money terms.

And in time terms - and this is where this all began - it's expensive to make your own soup (carrot & coriander, with onion, garlic and a wee bit of crushed chili and a sweet potato to improve the texture - about 20 minutes + cooking and blitzing time) and to prefer to make your own bread (I was making the starting 'sponge' which is now sitting in my pantry bubbling gently while it gathers flavour). Sometimes I use the machine and it takes only about 5 minutes to sling the stuff in, but sourdough takes longer, with the floury hands-on bit the time when someone is bound to phone you. Worth it, though - a great taste and texture.

But I digress. Where the time went this morning was partly on cooking, and partly on swimming. For the rest, I was seduced by a particularly enticing post on Kimberly's blog and spent an hour on the phone. But wanting to eat well and being a domestic goddess is clearly to blame for much of what I have left undone of what I ought to have done ... so is there indeed 'no health in me' after all?


  1. Anonymous8:57 PM

    If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well it were done quickly. But, then, perhaps you would lard the lean earth as you walked along, fed on a surfeit of ready meals and chips, not to mention the odd lamprey. Remember: mens sans vincit omnia.

  2. Anonymous8:59 PM

    I did, of course, mean sana.

  3. I too am a miserable offender in that case. The leftover watercress and asparagus trimmings soup was delicious.

  4. Ah, abf, I might have known a bit of Latin mince would tempt you from your slumbers!

  5. Anonymous12:58 PM

    I did it to prove that I'm not yet sans teeth, sans everything... just!

  6. Oh my! We also have the Dutch hothouse tomatoes in the US! How funny...Yes, they make their way clear aross the Atlantic Ocean. And, I have discovered that in the winter months, the Canadian hothouse maters are just as tasty. hahaha!

    And if I can figure out why food that is LESS processed than the MORE processed varieties are MORE expensive, perhaps I shall be in line for a Nobel Prize? is just such a strange commodity! We in the US are seeing prices on most everything suddenly increase...we are told it is because of the price of gasoline. (or petrol!) Too bad I live in the woods...last garden I planted, the DEER had quite the heyday whilst I only stood by, looking on hopelessly!!!!

    Oh! AND, I think you nearly have me comvinced to get off my duff and make up some starter for sourdough bread...I love that stuff! The only reason I had not made it before was because I had visions of going away on vacation and returning to find my entire kitchen being consumed by a wild, out-of-control "blob" of sourdough starter....perhaps my imagination is a bit too active???

  7. Katya, all you need to do is restrain the starter in the fridge when you're not using it! and the bread was totally delicious today..

  8. Anonymous11:20 PM

    Having various dietary intolerances means plastic or cash is of no consequence when gluten free bread (that doesn't taste of cardboard)costs more than £3 for a tiny loaf.
    Being of tender years means that I have to work at the minute and prevents me from experimenting with wheat free ingredients and my trusty bread maker. (Great for the normal sort of bread!) One of these days!!!