Digital detoxing & a delicious novel: March 2024
And one of nature's sweetest treats.
Dear Reader,
And here we are, very nearly at the conclusion of yet another month. Time marches on relentlessly and March of 2024 is very nearly over, forever.
Happy autumn equinox for last week, if you’re southside like me. Or if you live in the northern hemisphere, you’re probably thrilled that the daylight hours are extending, and the dark, grey days of winter are almost at a close.
We’re still getting hit with hot days here in Melbourne – it’ll be nice and warm for most of Easter. Yet, the mornings are cool, the leaves are starting to fall from deciduous trees and the sun feels so much less harsh on the skin. I love this time of the year, especially as I start to plan out heartier meals, alongside redesigning my portable garden. Cherry tomatoes out! Garlic and salad greens, in!
And now, onto the last month of posts.
I guess entering your mid-thirties comes with a wave of realisations. One in particular, was that I’d been keeping a diary for twenty years. You learn a lot after two decades of doing a thing, so here are some reflections and tips. I intended to keep journalling for the rest of my time on this planet.
Notes on 20 years of journalling
If you do anything long enough, I suppose you become an ‘expert’ of sorts in it. So I guess after twenty years of journalling, I've gotten good enough at it to want to keep going. I don’t think there is any right or wrong way to keep a diary; this is just what I've learned along the way.
The following has fast turned into one of my most popular posts – proving we’re all a bit sick of the devices that rule our lives. Read it if you haven’t already, and let me know what you think in the comments.
I’m undergoing a five-day phone detox IN THE CITY from… tomorrow! Will report back on findings next week. I’m very excited about this.
Thoughts from a five-day digital detox
I'm currently undergoing a program, which is deep-rooted in nature. It began with a five-day retreat where we were encouraged to switch off. Well. Switch off our devices at least, and switch on our minds. So, I eagerly buried my phone in the bottom of my backpack and felt my senses begin to sparkle.
Seeing as we mostly talk about books and food within this space, it seemed high time to share some of my favourite cookbooks. These are the ones I generally keep on rotation. It’s an eclectic mix, offering up advice on cooking seasonally, fermenting, incorporating Australian flavours and limiting food waste (along with Karen Martini’s epic tome, which I really think is a must-have for any cookbook collection). Also, I just bought a copy of Hamed Allahyari’s Salamati and reckon it’s also gonna become a favourite.
Excellent cookbooks to add to your collection
Sitting down, cracking open the spine of a new cookbook, flipping through it at your leisure. Making notes, writing a grocery list, inevitably splattering that first bit of food against its cover when you begin preparing a meal. It’s all part of the process. It’s one of life’s little pleasures.
Urban foraging: nature’s nectar
A new urban foraging discovery, which is so sweet, I had to share it with you (one for Aussie readers I’m afraid, but I’m curious to know if there is similar elsewhere on the globe – if anyone knows, I’m all ears).
Would you eat the excrement of a tiny, spa-sucking insect? Well, considering I ate garden snails as part of a food experiment for this newsletter, my answer is an immediate yes.
Lerps are starchy, white little huts that psyllid insects build to protect themselves from winds and predators while they suck the sap out of leaves. They are well loved by birds, possums, gliders and traditionally, Indigenous Australians, as they’re a good source of protein and fat, and also taste rather delicious.
There are many different species of psyllids in Australia, with some preferring a particular tree to gorge themselves on. Others are less devoted in this sense.
To eat them, you simply dislodge the lerp with a fingernail, so as to not also consume the psyllid. Pop it in your mouth and chew. It’s basically crystallized honeydew, so it’s fairly yummy delicious.
One of those things that is so small, you would miss it, unless you were being truly observant.
I've started a nature journal, for scribbling insights into and also drawing. Here’s my interpretation of lerps:
After foraging two for the purpose of this newsletter, I asked both a colleague and my boyfriend if they’d like the sample one. Their answers were as follows… I’ll leave it to you to figure out who said what:
You want me to eat their homes? In this economy?!”
No, but I like your weird hobbies.”
What’s Booking: Piglet by Lottie Hazell
Man, it is good when two things you really enjoy intersect. This example is a sad girl novel that revolves around food, in the form of Lottie Hazell’s debut Piglet.
Piglet’s life is pretty near perfect. She’s engaged to Kit, they own their first home together in Oxford and she’s a cookbook editor, working at a publishing house in London. We meet her weeks out from her wedding, with Piglet excited to reinvent herself as she formally takes on her new life – from a humdrum middle-class upbringing (although one with enough problems of its own to instill a borderline nasty childhood nickname), to one edged with privilege.
Then, just under two weeks out from the wedding, Kit slams her with a revelation that fractures their perfectly constructed world.
We sit with Piglet, day by day, as she begins to spiral. And as her life unravels, the hungrier she gets.
I’ve not quite read a piece of fiction book that deals so viscerally with food. Piglet’s obsession as both cook and consumer is descriptive and detailed. Hazell is undergoing a PhD that considers food-writing in twenty-first-century fiction, so this is rather a case of write what you know. Boy, does she do it well.
It essentially reads like a Heartburn for the twenty-first century – except as far as I know, Hazell’s novel is entirely fictional, while Nora Ephron was very much getting her own back on philandering husband Carl Bernstein (‘everything is copy’, as she once famously stated).
And lastly, life lately
Reading several truly excellent books. The literary hits just keep on coming. Bruce Pascoe’s newest memoir Black Duck details his and partner Lyn Harwood’s quest to farm native grasses in Australia, off the back of his extremely successful book Dark Emu. More to say on this soon. What Happened to Nina? by Dervla McTiernan is a perfect contender for a Friday Night Thriller. Oh and I finally read Fourth Wing and thought it was really decent romantasy – dragons, magic, an emotionally-solid relationship and just enough sexy times to keep things interesting.
Very briefly meeting Rebecca F. Kuang (author of Yellowface and Babel) at an author talk. Very unsurprising, but she is extremely intelligent and well spoken. Her next book is rooted in dark academia (but make it fantasy) and I cannot wait to read it next year.
Perusing the program for Melbourne Writer’s Festival. This is my favourite event in Melbourne’s calendar, and although I much preferred it taking place in early spring rather than late autumn, I’m just happy to be able to attend at all this year. Have got a seat at a few author talks. Will report back.
Having one of the best meals of my life at Greasy Zoe’s in Hurtsbridge. This tiny restaurant seats eight people and is run by a couple. Zoe does the cooking and Lachlan is sommelier and maitre’d. The food is excellent; all cooked around the seasons, the restaurant operates on a closed loop, they served up a peach kefir that is one of the best things I’ve ever had hit my tongue and the ceramics they use are totally gorgeous. Highly recommend this restaurant for a special occasion.
Listening to a lot of Caroline Polachek, Olivia Rodrigo and Weyes Blood; they all give me late summer/early autumn vibes for some reason.
Just a quick note
When I relaunched this newsletter, I did so knowing the first few months would consist of a bit of experimentation. Seeing what would land, get the most eyeballs, resonate the most and such.
I’ve pretty much come to the conclusion that posts do best when they are emailed directly upon publishing to you, my very lovely subscribers. As such, I’ve decided to mix things up a bit.
What’s Cooking will now be a weekly newsletter, landing in your inbox every Thursday morning, 8am Melbourne time. Consisting of the same amount of content you’ve been receiving in 2024, just a bit more spread out!
I’ll still be producing these bigger editions at the end of the month, which will wrap up the going-ons of the month. Some posts will be paywalled. Some won’t.
I remain very excited to see what the next few months of newsletter-ing bring. Hope you’re keen to come along for the ride.
See you next Thursday, for an update on five phone-free days in the city.
‘Til then, stay well and well-fed.
-Celine
If you like this, I’d in turn appreciate a like – consider it an offering to the algorithm gods? Just hit the heart and off you go.
If you’re new here, these are the past bumper-editions of What’s Cooking:
A note on foraging: always proceed with caution and consume at your own risk – What’s Cooking with Celine cannot take responsibility for any reader becoming ill after eating wild food.
Mmmm, I love hearty winter meals, I think it's the only time I can come up with recipe ideas because I essentially just live off stews and curries.
And while I can't personally get on board the lerp train, I applaud your sense of endless discovery and adventure.
Greasy Zoe’s in March 2025? Maybe someplace closer???