comfort

On Wednesday I had one of those days where you just get out of the wrong side of bed. It didn't help that after so many warm, sunshiny days, it was cold and grey and dull. And I'd said I didn't want winter to end just yet! Well, I've changed my mind. It was even colder in the house. I couldn't decide what to wear, because everything seemed wrong and everything was annoying and I had a load of things to do and I had a headache and this was supposed to be my day off, dammit! All I wanted to do was sit on the couch in my jim jams, watching old films with Babycat purring in my lap, drinking tea and eating the occasional biscuit. And this is what I did till almost lunchtime, but those things I had to do really did need doing.

One of those things was going off to the markets to buy food for the dinner I am cooking for eight people this Saturday night. So I dragged my unsure-of-my-outfit self off to the markets, dragging my nanna wagon behind me, and felt very sorry for myself because it was all such a drag.

I'd just bought some cheese at the deli when I heard the lady next to me ask for 500g of fresh ricotta. I love fresh ricotta. My mother-in-law loves it, too, and in fact she was the one who got me on to it with home made jam on thick toast. It was somehow instantly comforting. I was tired of being so grumpy – it's no way to spend a precious day off! – and thought it was definitely time I pulled myself together. I bought some fresh ricotta, and some fig conserve, too. The rest of the market was already more fun; I finished getting things for the weekend, and got some beautiful looking salmon for later. As soon as I got home I had my ricotta and figs for lunch and instantly felt a million times better. Even the fig conserve's lid is cheery – I love that red and white check pattern! Comfort eating at its best.