Day 34: seeking sanctuary

I think today’s choice may well be a nationwide (if not worldwide) go-to comfort food, and although I do feel all food gives comfort, some are particularly more potent in comfort-inducing qualities than others.

I signed off after my last entry whining about my brain fog, which still hasn’t really lifted. Anyone who suffers from this cognitive dysfunction, no matter its cause, will know just how frustrating it can be and how unnerved and lost you can feel. I’m not a psychiatrist, or indeed any professional qualified to lecture on medical issues, but I can empathise deeply. For me, there is a definitive link between my anxiety and the onset of these brain fogs and in times of such duress – and I very much consider this to be one those – I have a greater need than usual to seek comfort in the things I enjoy.

Amongst the densest haze of brain fog, I need to seek sanctuary: a place where I can feel calm and collect my thoughts. It is these moments of tranquillity that will break the vicious circle, calm my anxiety, and enable me to navigate my way back. I guess it’s kind of like a guiding light, leading you out of the epicentre of the thickest smog and into the clearer, open moorland – where you can quietly reflect and wait for the fog to lift.

Luckily for me, I find this sanctuary - and tranquillity - in cooking and eating.

Nigella’s Nursery Fish Pie

While I was in the (socially distanced) queue at the fishmonger’s at the weekend, I quickly searched for Nigella fish recipes on my phone and was presented with Nursery Fish Pie as the top result. I think I was next in line, so I rapidly skimmed the ingredients and ordered what I needed. I did not foresee then just how much I would come to need this.

Each time I pick a recipe for this cookalong, I of course read the introduction to every single one. Obviously, this was a last-minute, in-line, decision, so I didn’t get around to reading it until I actually started cooking it. I had no idea it was in the Funeral section of Feasts, and neither did I realise just how special this recipe was to Nigella: bringing comfort to her loved ones, and indeed herself when it was needed most. When I read someone’s emotions surrounding a particular scenario, I find myself feeling an echo of those emotions - as if like a supernatural empath - and while I do not compare a brain fog or mental illness to losing a loved one, I do feel they can make you feel equally alone, saddened, and weakened.

I set aside extra time to make dinner this evening; I knew I would be functioning at a slower speed and didn't want the overhanging pressure of needing dinner prepared within a short space of time - or panicking that I had to rush - to ruin the occasion. Indeed, I wanted to spend longer doing something I loved instead of sitting there feeling sorry myself. And, as the mind can sometimes know no rest, the body may as well be busy making much needed - and necessary - sustenance.

Flavour musings

We ate dinner in serene silence this evening, and with each steaming mouthful of this hot, cheesy, smoky fish pie that I forked into my mouth (with the obligatory three-puff-blow to cool it), I found myself nearing the exit of that wretched fog.

Great emotion and great sanctuary can be found in food and, to me, this fish pie - and indeed its provenance - is living proof of that. Food has the power to heal the body and the mind, and for this, I am forever grateful.