I suffer from periodic episodes of depression despite best efforts – mine, the NHS, friends, family, mild(now) medication and mindfulness, hard work. The episodes come and go, less associated with panics and anxiety these days, though the brain sometimes goes BOOM.
I have a very personal food recipe that always makes me feel better. It isn’t difficult but involves enough prep to distract yourself from difficult thoughts. I share here just because of no other reason than – the experience of extending from the blackness that can sometimes consume one, for no logic, on no schedule of anybody else’s making. Food is lush. I know, as well, that many today rely on foodbanks too (hence my politics). That said, so here we go:
The Spence YORKSHIRE BLUE Get-Well Meal Plan
Patent pending from a Caravan in God’s Own County where there’s a bog in there, door needs a good slam, and a tarp for the morning if tha needs. Sweep up after thi’sen.
Prep: have a nice walk and a cool, or seasonally warm, bath. Get the’wellies off before or after. Settle down and wind thy neck in lest thee become a mardy arse “fuck-up” (quoted from the God’s Own Country film), heavy on light brass, picture in a portrait on nobody’s gallery wall, in a barn of endless manure.
- Fresh wild rocket leaves, can sub or mix with watercress but not spinach (pointless)
- Beetroot without vinegar (or well-rinsed if vinegared, or boil yer own, mardy)
- Two cored and diced ripe pears, three if frisky, sweeter the better
- Trimmed and sliced radishes, noting a huge dose will kill you
- Half a peeled and cubed cucumber, according to lifestyle preferences
- Three celery sticks as slices, whichever way you orientate, lateral preferred
- Cubed Wensleydale blue cheese (or sub with Stilton or Staffs blue, never a Stinking Bishop)
- Walnut halves, can sub with hazelnuts in autumn, or pine nuts if continental
- Frugal lemon-juice toss, optional olive oil drizzle, no virgins, flat-leaf parsley if you’re 70s vintage or a new-gen hipster with no ideas of your own
- Boiled new potatoes, nowt posh mind you (or micro for 900w 7 mins), drizzled with 1 soup-spoon of full-fat butter or olive oil if a continental marginal
- Two outdoor-reared chicken (or wild fowl) breasts, bodies cut away or not (no giblets), pan-fried with two or three garlic cloves and a nan’s portion of lemon squeeze (not a lot, and her eye), a pinch of sage or thyme, and a grind of black pepper like yer men, or partners of any preference
- Mayo optional, salt is for frozen streets round Bradford, and over’t’t Pennine tops, don’t waste it here
- Feet in a bucket of cold water (“watter”) staring at a broken stone wall, all seasons