Hello Reader,

My friend once cried over a food processor.

She was making one of Ottolenghi's recipes, one of his many complicated ones and she missed a step. The food processor instruction for the first six ingredients to be precise, so quite a time saving step. There were tears. If you've ever tried his ‘ultimate tray bake ragu’ recipe, you'll understand.

On Tuesday night I queued up to meet him. His book Simple is one of my favourites, so I was excited not just to meet him, but to get my hands on the new one – Simple Too.

I’ve always loved his recipes. Colourful, adaptable (add different spices or herbs if you like, which I usually do) and they look and taste absolutely delicious. Not forgetting the Ottolenghi staples we know and love – Za’atar, rose harissa, and pomegranate molasses. Plenty of the new ones in Simple Too are simple, one-tray affairs too, so even easier. They're not as complicated as they used to be, although I still find ways to make an afternoon of it. It's rarely just an hour. Give me three, if I've got several dishes on the go.

omewhere in the talk, he spoke about how noisy everything's become: the news, the cost of living crisis, doom scrolling, everyone's phone constantly asking for attention. And how cooking is one of the few places left where you can actually put the phone down and lose yourself.

That's exactly it, for me. Music on, cookbook open, working out what I'm going to make – that's about as close to bliss as I get. Not just the eating. It's the making, the whole slow, undistracted stretch of it.

His passion, and the time he spends on it, reminded me why I got into this in the first place. I am truly passionate about food and cooking. But I also wanted to understand the science of food and the body properly. The balance, how to fuel my body well. That was never the whole reason I loved it, though. It was always also about this.

I've noticed a lot of food marketed around health starts with what can be optimised – protein and fibre – and food can end up becoming quite functional. Ottolenghi talked about something else entirely: flavour, colour, the joy of what's on the plate. Nutrition isn't absent, but pleasure isn't treated as something that needs to be justified.

There’s nothing wrong with keeping food simple. In fact, making healthy eating easier is good advice. Repeat a few meals. Keep ingredients minimal (which is Simple Too’s premise). Don't turn Tuesday night's dinner into a three-hour project. But easy doesn't have to mean joyless and nutritious doesn't have to mean boring.

I want both. I want to give my body what it needs most of the time. Protein, fibre, plants, enough energy. I also want olive oil, proper bread, big flavours, cookbooks covered in splashes and the occasional afternoon lost to making dinner. I don't think one undermines the other.

There's a word for the balance I'm actually after: Lagom. It’s Swedish, roughly translated as not too much, not too little; just right. Not restriction and not indulgence either. The middle ground, as it happens.

One small thing for you:

If cooking already feels like a chore, this isn't about adding complexity. But if you've been eating the same safe thing out of habit, ask yourself – is that what you want, or is it just easy? There's no right answer, just worth noticing which one it is.

If it is habit, and you fancy a bit more joy on the plate, it doesn't have to be complicated. A sprinkle of cayenne. A few torn basil leaves. An extra glug of olive oil. Or one of Ottolenghi's staples. Small things, same meal, different experience.

Until next time.

Kirsty

Nutrition & Mindset Coach
​@kjrcoaching​

Food, mindset, and everything in between.