Looking back over the year since the pandemic started, London-based food writer, Angela Zaher, shares how lockdown shaped her cooking habits and what her time in the kitchen taught her about life.
When lockdown came our way in March 2020 and our world shrunk to the confines of our homes, I found solace in the kitchen. Admittedly, my enthusiasm for cooking waned somewhat initially as the relentlessness of the preparation (and cleaning up after) of meals for four people three times a day, seven days a week dawned on me. However, after the passing of sufficient time to adjust to this new way of life where our home became also a place of work, study, gym and more, our dinners became the part of the day which I most looked forward to. It was a time to gather around the table and talk about whatever made our day bearable or unbearable, to let our hair down a little and laugh or argue or sometimes stay silent but always, to enjoy the simple pleasure of eating together.
Given that one of the most niggling aspects of domestic life during lockdown was that everyday was groundhog day, food and drink would provide the marker as to the passing of the week. After indulgent weekends, Mondays and Tuesdays would consist of lighter, meat-free meals, the menu for Wednesdays would be more complicated and be in a sufficient quantity to cover Thursdays in their own right as leftovers or somewhat re-constituted with whatever else in the fridge needed to be used up. We celebrated Fridays with comfort food such as pizzas made from scratch. I have to confess that there were (several) Fridays when doing anything from scratch felt very remote from the concept of comfort so we indulged in takeaways.
The weekends would be filled with edible treats, starting with a strong coffee on Saturdays which my husband would make using the small coffee pot we bought from Sardinia fifteen years ago and rarely used since. The aroma of this brew would waft through the house like church bells, announcing that the weekend had arrived. The little flat in the agriturismo where we stayed on that holiday had the same style of coffee pot and we used it at breakfast and post-siesta everyday and ate alongside our coffees the juiciest and sweetest flat peaches. I relived that holiday with every sip of my weekend coffee and it transported me from cold, grey and wet London to sunny and exuberant Alghero; food and drink as escapism at its best.
I am middle-eastern and grew up around exotic spices and iron-rich pulses and greens so these have always played a major role in my cooking but during the pandemic, I used them to boost our immune system and make sure we gave our bodies a fighting chance in a challenging environment.
We went through two jars of cinnamon in 2020, more than twice our normal consumption. I sprinkled it on practically everything that came out of my kitchen. The four of us spent one happy Saturday tidying up the spice shelf. The introduction of gadgets like a labelling machine suddenly made this task appealing to the younger members of the household. We ordered them all neatly and made a list of which ones we have spares of. The result of this exercise was that we ended up using these spices and herbs much more than we ever had previously. Dried oregano found its way into my son’s daily ham and cheese lunchtime toastie. Cumin, sumac and chilli flakes went on eggs, soups or salad. I think our taste buds were forever altered by the prolonged home confinement of lockdown.
Baking treats during lockdown became my main strategy of dealing with the emotional see-saw of the pandemic and the anxiety that I struggled with on a daily basis. The cake that I baked to celebrate the news of the first vaccine was the same cake I made as news of lockdown three filtered through. We were no longer in control of much of our lives but in my kitchen, I could pick a recipe, follow it and know that within a defined period, it would be ready. That felt magical but also empowering; my baking would not be cancelled, a concept we sadly became over-familiar with.
As the year drew on, and restrictions were eased, reinstated then toughened, and as alert levels went up, down and through the roof like a high striker game in a fairground with coronavirus yielding the hammer, I took the bold decision to up my game by investing in a stand alone mixer like the ones I saw on tv used by my favourite chefs. I had been coveting one for many years but never felt I baked enough to justify the investment or the sacrifice of space on my kitchen counter.
But given that we were reminded of our own mortality on a daily basis during this sorry time, I stopped dithering and overthinking every decision and thought, “now or never”.
I took delivery of this beautiful beast which arrived in a box a human could have easily hidden in. The mixer was much heavier than I expected, lending it an air of gravitas, adorned in rose gold which accentuated its beauty and grandeur. It dominated our kitchen and we were happy to submit. I needed to baptise it with a recipe worthy of its calibre. I chose to make a brioche wreath with a baked Camembert in the middle, a recipe I looked up from one of the many food programs I watched during lockdown. My mixer did all the hard work without complaint but with a gentle and persistent whirr which indicated that it was doing its job expertly and efficiently. I was blown away by how good this first attempt turned out. It set me on a high that lasted all weekend, what more could I have asked for during those trying times?
After an encouraging start, my glorious mixer and I went on to try all sorts of speciality breads; cinnamon rolls, bagels, nothing seemed too difficult for my trusty friend. We worked very well as a team and after every use I would lovingly wipe it down and return it to its usual mark-free shine. Together, we sailed through the choppy waters of several lockdowns, if we stumbled here and there, we would dust ourselves off and start again. My kitchen was my refuge where wonderful things happened, where creativity was unleashed, there were no restrictions and the only tiers were on cakes.
Angela Zaher is a food writer, homemaker and ex- solicitor. She was born in Beirut, Lebanon but has lived in Brussels and in Hong Kong making her home in London for over 20 years. Her two passions are food and writing and she has been dedicated to both since leaving the legal profession. She believes that you can eat your way to good physical and mental health.
To connect visit:
Instagram: @angela_zaher
