The thrill of the food cupboard

It’s now two weeks since I last went to the shops or had a delivery.

By now I am working my way through little-known corners of the larder.

 

I thought I had everything neatly arranged in boxes.

How great was my happiness to discover that things had been flipped out and lodged behind the boxes.  The jewel in the crown of my discoveries was…a pack of dried pasta. 

Okay, so it was wholewheat, but nothing is perfect.

I’ve stopped tidying the larder just now – hoping to find some more surprises tomorrow.

Mustn’t overexcite myself.

Getting hold of fresh produce

We are trying to avoid the shops at the moment – it seems the most likely place to pick up Corona Virus.  However, it means we need to be imaginative about getting fresh produce.

I got the old pack of dried mung beans out of the back of the larder and am keeping some of them damp in a tray.  By the end of the week, they will have grown enough for me to use them as delicious bean sprouts.  

Soon I’ll plant some marrowfat peas (also from a pack in the larder) in a big dish outside and will quickly get pea sprouts - very fashionable in London restaurants.

Meantime, on my once-a-day excursion for exercise I am beginning to spot things I can forage – young nettle tops can be made into soup or eaten like spinach, while ramsons (wild garlic leaves) are nearly big enough to pick and cook with pasta or add flavour to stews or salads.

And in our little veg plot, I asked Nigel not to uproot last year’s chard and kale yet.  They may be a bit leggy, but they are still giving some green leaves.

Even if we didn't have the threat of Corona Virus, growing and foraging food still beats standing in a queue in Morrisons.

Eggs without panic

I had given up on finding some eggs to buy. 

But as a vegetarian, they do mean a lot to me.

Since I was passing, I decided to get a couple of items in a Tesco’s Local.

I nearly didn't go in as last time I had received poor service:-

A dopey teenage boy had been serving. I had handed over my single purchase – a swede. He stared at it in puzzlement.  I suspected he did not know what a swede was. 

“It hasn’t got a barcode.  Can you go and get one with a barcode.”

I trudged back to the far end and returned with another swede, but then gave him a look over my glasses and pointedly used the self-service till.

Today, as I went to pay for my tub of low-fat spread, there he was again.  My heart sank.

Just as I reached the front of the queue, another assistant called to him,

“What are all these eggs doing behind the till?”

“When people have been trying to buy too many, I’ve been taking them off them, like you said.”

“Yes, but you’re then supposed to re-shelve them.  People have been asking for eggs!”

Now was my chance.

“In that case, can I have some eggs please?”

“You can have up to three packs.”

“No thanks.  Just one.”

A unexpected bounty!

Just goes to show that dopiness is a two-edged sword.

Are haircuts still allowed?

Wheeling my bike along the local shopping street I saw my friend Rob and we snatched a catch-up.

We attempted to observe a ‘social distance’.  This worked between the two of us, but because we were spread out across the pavement other pedestrians simply piled into us.

In between “Excuse me”s and “Sorry”s I announced,

“I’m just going to get my hair cut.”

“Is that still allowed?!?”

“I hope so. I made an appointment two months ago, and I’ve received a confirmation.”

“Well, if they turn out to be shut, don’t worry there’s another one just round the corner.”

This was an intriguing insight into a male view of hairdressers – rather like buses, if you miss one just catch the next one.

Mosaic Hair Studio was open.  But my lovely hairdresser slipped in the door just at the same moment I did, looking hassled.

During the course of my cut, she explained that she had not been panic buying so her cupboard was now pretty much bare.  She’d been at the supermarket trying to get some food. Any food.

She had tried yesterday evening too.  And last night.

“What am I supposed to do? Sit at home and eat newspaper?”

As she finished her saga, she took the last snip and ran her hands through my hair to pull it into shape.

“You know, after all that, I think that’s the best cut you’ve ever given me!”

“Maybe I cut better when I’m slightly stressed.”

So I’m glad my haircut was still allowed.

And I hope she got some groceries!

Bringing out the best and the worst

People have been ringing each other and asking, “Are you okay?”

We have been setting up local mutual support circles for errands and shopping.

WhatsApp, Facebook and Instagram are being employed to boost morale and find the funny side - Many a chat group is devoting itself to the mystery of why everybody thinks they need SO much loo paper.

Some of us have been prompted to acquire new skills and use technologies such as video conferencing for the first time.

In lieu of a social life, we’re getting round to domestic projects that have been on hold for too long – in my case, potting my succulents (plants) and finally making Carenza a skirt out of the dress she wore as a bridesmaid when she was nine.

So maybe this crisis is making me a better human being.

But if anybody touches my dried pasta, I shall club them to death with my super-sized bottle of hand sanitiser.