Cooking and eating was everything to the author and Guardian columnist. But when she found herself at breaking point, she had to go back to basics
Three years ago, I fell out of love with food. I didn’t want to shop, I didn’t want to cook. I ate for necessity, not pleasure. The ends of a loaf of bread. An apple. A glass of oat milk. Whatever leftovers were in the fridge.
It wasn’t just food; everything around me had transformed into shades of monochrome. I couldn’t get out of bed most days, yet I couldn’t sleep. I was wired, tired and scrolling. I didn’t care much for whether the morning turned to night.
Continue reading… Cooking and eating was everything to the author and Guardian columnist. But when she found herself at breaking point, she had to go back to basicsThree years ago, I fell out of love with food. I didn’t want to shop, I didn’t want to cook. I ate for necessity, not pleasure. The ends of a loaf of bread. An apple. A glass of oat milk. Whatever leftovers were in the fridge.It wasn’t just food; everything around me had transformed into shades of monochrome. I couldn’t get out of bed most days, yet I couldn’t sleep. I was wired, tired and scrolling. I didn’t care much for whether the morning turned to night. Continue reading… Food, Indian food and drink, Books, Mental health, Life and style, Health & wellbeing, Culture, Work-life balance
