Isn’t it weird how comfort food is so rarely good looking? Often it’s some sort of stewy one-pot meal of indeterminate ingredients or maybe big piles of mash splodged onto a plate covered in a brown gravy. Never the less, they do have their own rare beauty.
The glistening fat on a slow cooked lump of lamb, oily worm-like noodles, pieces of aubergine that look unsettlingly like withered body parts. And swampy sludges of pureed roots and vegetables like this. Just looking at the thick greeny-yellow soup gently steaming away kindles a warm glow in my navel. Continue reading
