Laura Edwards
A new year dawns and January means at last we are left with a small amount of serenity. Food to take our time over and deliberately replenish. It’s a quiet month, a month for that rare, lesser spotted activity – slowing down. Soups can be stirred gently, citrus can bring some rare sunshine into your day, and breakfasts can be considered affairs that nourish and necessitate rest. I have always thought of this as a time to rejuvenate (definitely not one to diet). A month when I allow myself to enjoy the hushedness of the world. My inner introvert is never happier than when cooking and hiding at home.
For all its melancholy, January brings with it a kind of calm that I cherish. The bulbs in the garden push their way through the frozen earth, and the first snowdrops appear, reminding us that there is always renewal, even in the depths of winter. In the kitchen, we can lean into this change. Simple, wholesome, restorative food that acknowledges the need for nourishment, to give back to ourselves the care we may have neglected in the rush of the festive season.
Laura Edwards
Having spent two Januarys in my life postpartum, I have come to see the magic and restorative nature of food. Cooking, being cooked for, and eating during those days with new life is a pleasure. Another good dose of medicine comes in the form of the low winter sun, how it filters through the windows in soft rays, casting shadows on a recuperating household. People often talk about the exhaustion of the days following the birth of a child, and I would be remiss to deny that, yes, there is an abundance of fatigue. But there is also a certain peace that comes with it – a quiet that you can settle into. The world outside is still and distant, which is particularly soothing to me.
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