A change of space (and pace) – Moving to London…

Processed with VSCOcam with b5 presetTHERE ARE ALWAYS CASUALTIES in a house move: 1 x plate, 1 x egg cup, 1 x stilton pot lid, 1 x oven dish 3x rice bowls (all porcelain) and a pack of chopsticks missing in action. I have to face it – it was a better set of statistics than the last move – I must have learnt how to wrap things a little better this time around.

Moving house is pretty stressful at it’s best. There’s always a moment in time between those two points that you call home, when your brain picks everything up and re-aligns it with a new location. Even if it’s not that far away, that’s quite a feat. But for me, my brain and my stomach were at loggerheads. Whilst my brain was trying to remember what I’ve packed in to an infinite number of boxes, my stomach was already looking ahead into logistical kitchen nightmares: Where are you putting the kettle? What will that fit? How will that work?

From a food and cooking perspective the move has included a severe downsizing from 10sq.ft kitchen and dinning area to a tiny little 4sq.ft (probably less) cooking space. As I assessed the cupboards and spaces of my new home, I began to realise just how lazy my cooking skills and how oddly obese my collection of marginally useless (but quite pretty – hence how I’ve come to own them) kitchen implements have become. It’s time to shape up, stream line, and get focused again. This is about food and substance, not style and whim – as my chinese grandmother would say.

Will I miss the old space? Absolutely – a kitchen is often the heart of a home, and mine was no exception. I was happy to have people eating, conversing, spilling sour secrets over the wooden dining table and celebrating the savoury and sweet with me. That green tiled splash back had caught more than just my tears at times of disaster and the oven had bore witness to personal triumphs.

So now I’m making headway in my new little kitchen. Things fit (just about), and the skylight window drenches a small crisp square of yellow sunshine in the morning across the shelves and invites me to look with new eyes and muse on future possibilities. Oh of course, there will be many times when my clumsy side will trouble me in such a tired and confined environment, and as a result the kitchen and I will probably fall out. However, with Portobello Road Market (among so many others) on my doorstep, for the first time a lack of home cooking does not concern me. I can not imagine the number of possibilities of eating out.

It’s been a while since I’ve been back living here in the capital, but as of this week I can happily call myself a Londoner again. Countless many memories are rushing back.

So ~ stay tuned for more London food based adventures. x

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