Hi there. These days my cupboards look a bit like those of Mother Hubbard. But I am not in despair. No no, this is a resilience post. I am liberated by my lack of food.
How, you say? Well, this lack of ingredients forces me to be creative with what I have. And this is my go-to outlook in all facets of life right now. Sometimes I have to give myself pep talks, but they work, and then my creativity blooms.
I have a giant bag of whole wheat flour. I have oats. I have raisins (recently purchased to stretch the supplies on hand), and I have a freezer full of meat. I have rice and dried beans, I have my home canned goods, including jars and jars of spaghetti sauce. I have one acorn squash, ten potatoes, and one onion. I have some pasta, cornmeal, and shredded coconut. I have lettuce and celery. And I have spices, sugar, agave, soy sauce and oil. And lots of butter. With this I can do wonders.
This afternoon I plan to bake an adaptation of Mollie Katzen’s 150% Whole Wheat Bread, substituting rice for wheat berries. I cook meat every night that my vegetarian stepdaughter is not here. I keep a pot of rice in the fridge at all times. I cook up beans, makeshift muffins, and boy oh boy do we eat a lot of spaghetti sauce.
And that’s cool. That’s what this season is all about; living off the bounty you have set aside. Sadly, this move has severely interfered with my gardening, with my preserving, and with my husband’s gleaning. But I know of one apple tree in our new neighborhood, and we are walking there today. We’ll see if there’s any fruit left.
I can do this. I can craft these slim pickings into meal after meal for my family. I can light a candle, put on some music, and get in my groove. I can bake bread. I can cook beans. And the garden will rise again.