January January January.
It’s cold in the world.
A mate of mine sent me their website and cheered me right up by making a brand that is bang on disobedient irreverent and funny. I’ve been doing this life shit for long enough that I’ve managed to discover humans that make me forget things like tiny dick rapeylips walking into the office on a global stage and giving his list to Santa in a speech. My dad would often say “You can’t argue with stupid.”
I made bread. The first time from scratch. Brian still held my hand a bit.
There’s been a starter in the kitchen for months. When Brian was here the kitchen would occasionally be carnage for a bit, following which there would be a loaf of bread.
The starter is a living organism. Needs to be fed and watered. I’ve been looking after it. But a man gets hungry. I’ve cut out all delivered and fast foods, so I’m getting through the kitchen stock and bread will help as it’s great with so much.
This evening though I’ve got the Marmite in the oven, heating up one of the cheap cans of cassoulet I bought in the south of France. They have these incredible places where you can get them to can up fucking good quality stuff in a great big can. I got one of them and then a pack of three shitty cheap ones from a supermarket for emergencies. Tonight was the time for the quality one, I thought, but the can was so big it has been put somewhere awkward or chucked. Fuck it. That’ll teach me not to hoard food.
The bread will be baked in time for breakfast tomorrow. I’ve just realised I’ve run out of eggs but the shop ain’t far. I’ve been really enjoying remembering how I was an obsessive cook for decades before I got really lazy. Budget tells me it is past time to remember that passion.
Meanwhile Boo is behind me as I write, eating the same old dried chicken pellets, and I have to think about how lucky I am. Yeah ok so a can of the cheap cassoulet tonight ain’t the height of gastronomy, but I’ve got the Marmite and I’ve got the can so it’s gonna get eaten. Fuck waste, especially if I’m saving money which I am. I have tax approaching like a fucking steam train. Fines are worse than the tax. ADHD admin ostrich is gonna PAY.
It’s nice to get your hands sticky with dough. As I was folding it my brain immediately went to pizza and once I’ve got the basics squared off and made space in the cupboards by eating all the crap I’ve bought and never eaten then it’s time to learn to make expensive tomato cheesebread so I never have to have some unwilling guy on a bike drop me a cold circle of dispassion in exchange for my right eye.
AlBarclay 