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Midnight Chicken: & Other Recipes Worth Living For

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It’s what makes this cookbook-cum-memoir feel exuberant, unstoppable, and triumphantly on the side of love and life in the face of death and loss and grief. For cost savings, you can change your plan at any time online in the “Settings & Account” section. If you’d like to retain your premium access and save 20%, you can opt to pay annually at the end of the trial. This may have looked like a cookbook, but what it is really is an annotated list of moments worth living for. Dinner parties, and Saturday afternoons in the kitchen, and lazy breakfasts, and picnics on the heath; evenings alone with a bowl of soup, or a heavy pot of clams for one. The bright clean song of lime and salt, and the smoky hum of caramel-edged onions. Soft goat’s cheese and crisp pastry. A six-hour ragù simmering on the stove, a glass of wine in your hand. Moments, hours, mornings, afternoons, days. And days worth living for add up to months, and so on and so on, until you’ve unexpectedly built yourself a life worth having: a life worth living.

This is a book about the power of cooking to provide comfort, a framework for living and loving and recipes to savour and save. I want to quote you something from the very end of the book, which I feel tells you exactly why you should have this book, before we even get on to the recipes: If you do nothing, you will be auto-enrolled in our premium digital monthly subscription plan and retain complete access for 65 € per month.

Perhaps the ultimate roast chicken...

It’s this last question, of what to do now that Jim is no longer here to make his objections known, that leads Risbridger to some of her most affecting passages. She spent years of her life as Jim’s caretaker, guiding him through chemotherapy and all its accompanying horrors, rendered “subservient, essentially, in a way no other adult relationship demands.” Now that Jim is no longer there, she has space to think through her own preferences, and to deal with the guilt and the horror surrounding that space. Peel and grate the ginger, if you have a little grater, or you can just chop it if not. It’ll be OK. Add most of it to your cup with the garlic and herbs. Put the last pinch into a mug with the honey. Boil a kettle. Take half of your garlic and chop it finely, then put it in a cup. Using the kitchen scissors, chop the chillies and a few sprigs of rosemary and thyme. Put those in your cup, too. Add a hefty teaspoon of mustard, some pepper and chilli salt (just ordinary sea salt will do, if you haven’t got chilli salt). You can add a little splash of olive oil too, if you like. I don’t always, but sometimes I do, and then it is gold.

This is supposed to be the year when the world, my world, starts again;” Risbridger writes as she first hears news of the pandemic. “This is not the year the world is supposed to end, because my world has already ended.” Change the plan you will roll onto at any time during your trial by visiting the “Settings & Account” section. What happens at the end of my trial?Take the lemon and cut it in half. Juice one half very briskly, and the other half a little less briskly. Pour most of the lemon juice into your cup of stuff. Stir. Pour the rest of the lemon juice into the mug with the ginger and honey. Add hot water from the kettle. Stir. Drink. Steady yourself. You may also opt to downgrade to Standard Digital, a robust journalistic offering that fulfils many user’s needs. Compare Standard and Premium Digital here. And that, in the end, is what you read The Year of Miracles for: the sweetness and the mess. Cardamom buns that fall apart in the oven but are still buttery and rich with sugar and spices. An account of a life laced with grief that wasn’t supposed to be there, and a world that ends over and over and over again and manages to keep its beauty and its charm regardless. With her housemate, she invents “the Self-Esteem Finger: you hold up one finger, to indicate a desire that has no reference or recourse to anyone else, and you say ‘self-esteem!’” She stops making roast dinners, which Jim loved and she hated, and she indulges in meals with very little meat, such as the Turkish eggs in garlic yogurt. A chapter header from The Year of Miracles. Elisa Cunningham

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