January, my old whipping boy. Funny enough, here every year, leaving me scratching my head and feeling confused.
This year, of course I vow change. I vow to use my recipe books, and can at least be pleased that I’m buying fewer (using them more). I vow to be gracious and flexible in the recipes I cook for my family, winning some and losing some.
I vow to make the most of my veg box, even if that means a lot of soup for me, and the odd frankfurter for the kids. I will get better at sourdough, especially as sourdough starter makes the best pizza.
I’ll think more about the value of what I eat, of how lucky I am to have food, fresh veg and the means to feed my family. More time for the food charities around me. I’ll take my cooking out with me and cook with others. Listening to what’s important to other people’s food choices, or where they’re not able to make choices.
These are neither novel nor laudable. My pictures aren’t beautiful. They represent a desire to be the change that I’d like to see in the world, and you’ve got to start somewhere.