The least I could do

  This will either sound like hippy nonsense or you'll know exactly what I'm on about. (Oh, here we go. -Ed.) The last few days have felt like a bit of a whirlwind what with a stolen motorbike and all the preparation for Berlin, (which I was supposed to tell you about today), on top of which I'd taken my eye off the ball and my eating hasn't been the most supportive.

  Despite more running around today and a late arrival home this evening, I knew that I needed to have a calming, nurturing supper. Another whirlwind ensued as I raided my fridge for all the vegetables I could find. This was followed by a tornado of activity as all sorts of dishes started to gather in the same way I imagine clouds of cosmic dust swirl together to form stars and planets.

  What you see above is not only a couple of finished plates, but also some of the debris that was left in their wake. In brief there was roasted aubergine with parmesan, roasted tenderstem broccoli, quinoa with pan fried veg and a salad of salady things. This was exactly what the doctor ordered.

  Though the easy option would have been to get some Thai food delivered, (as was mooted as we came in the door), it was a lot more nourishing to dance around the kitchen. The bit that might sound like utter gibberish is where I tell you that because I felt like it was a treat to enjoy the opportunity to be creative and do something that I knew was nurturing, none of the cooking felt like a chore or any kind of effort.

  To take it a step further, because I felt like a passenger in my body as it boogied around, I was both along for the ride as well as directing movements. Think of the conductor of an orchestra flailing around, lost in music while the musicians follow his directions. After a week of too many sugary biscuits and coffees, a big pile of vegetables was like a walk in a summer meadow with a gentle breeze blowing the... (Enough with the hippy nonsense. Go get some sleep. -Ed.)

Kirk out

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