Day Two: Making Something Out of the Little Things

On simple lunches and slowing down

A couple of days ago, I spent nearly four and a half hours in the kitchen making a chicken parmi and a vanilla sponge cake from scratch. There was flour on the bench, a camera being moved around every few minutes, and enough washing-up to make me question some of my life choices.

I also learnt that if I plan on filming my kitchen adventures, I desperately need a tripod. I have a feeling I can't keep recruiting my boyfriend as my personal cameraman every time I decide to make something.

Today, however, is a little less ambitious.

No elaborate dinner. No cake that requires me to hover around the oven, wondering whether it's cooked in the middle. No attempt to coordinate five different things at once while trying to remember to film everything.

Today, I'm making lunch.

A really simple lunch, actually.

And somehow, I think that makes it worth writing about.

A little something for lunch

I had some bread in the kitchen and wanted something a little more interesting than a plain slice of toast. I opened the fridge, had a look at what was available, and decided to make a tuna spread.

Now, I should probably mention that I don't always follow a recipe when I'm cooking. Sometimes I like having instructions to follow, especially when I'm making something for the first time. Other times, I prefer to throw a few things together, cross my fingers, and hope my taste buds know what they're doing.

Today was very much the second option.

I started with tuna and added some finely chopped onion, a little chilli, spring onion, a squeeze of MasterFoods Zesty Lemon & Herb sauce, some freshly squeezed lemon juice, chopped artichokes, salt and pepper.

And the artichokes deserve a moment of their own.

I recently discovered that I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE artichokes. I don't know where they've been all my life, but I'm very glad they've finally made an appearance. It's funny how you can go so long without giving an ingredient much thought, only to try it one day and wonder how you ever lived without it.

Perhaps this is how my little kitchen adventure will go: a few new recipes, a couple of questionable decisions, and the occasional discovery that makes me ridiculously excited about an ingredient.

The tuna spread came together in hardly any time at all. No complicated techniques, no special equipment, and certainly no four-and-a-half-hour commitment.

Just a handful of ingredients, a mixing bowl, and a little willingness to experiment.

And that's something I want to get better at: trusting myself in the kitchen. Learning which flavours work together, being brave enough to try something different, and accepting that not every experiment needs to turn out perfectly to teach me something.

Because, really, what's the worst that can happen? I make a terrible tuna spread, learn my lesson, and order something else for lunch.

Although, for the record, I'd much rather it turn out delicious.

Not every day needs to be an occasion

I've been thinking about why I wanted to start this little project in the first place.

Of course, I want to improve my cooking and baking. I want to try recipes I've never attempted, learn new techniques, and become the sort of person who can confidently make something wonderful without needing to check the recipe seventeen times.

But I also wanted a reason to write more.

Writing has always been something I've wanted to make more room for in my life. I love the idea of capturing thoughts, experiences, and little moments before they disappear into the busyness of everyday life. I want Written & Whisked to be a place where I can share what I'm making, what I'm learning, and perhaps a little of who I am along the way.

I'm still figuring out exactly what that will look like. I don't have every post planned, a perfectly organised schedule, or some grand vision of how this will all unfold.

I'm simply starting.

And I think there's something rather freeing about that.

It's easy to wait until we have the perfect idea, the perfect circumstances, or the perfect amount of confidence before we begin something. We tell ourselves we'll start when we're more organised, when life settles down, when we know a little more, or when we're finally ready.

But if I waited until I felt completely ready to do everything I wanted to do, I suspect I'd be waiting a very long time.

So here I am, writing about a tuna spread.

It's not exactly a Michelin-starred culinary experience, but it's something I made, something I enjoyed, and something that gave me a reason to sit down and write today.

I think that counts.

The little things are still part of the story

I sometimes catch myself thinking that the most memorable parts of life are supposed to be the big ones.

The birthdays, the celebrations, the holidays, the special dinners, and the moments we've been looking forward to for months. Those are the moments we take photographs of, talk about afterwards, and hold close in our memories.

And, of course, they matter.

But most of life doesn't happen on special occasions. It happens on ordinary Mondays, in the middle of the week, when there's washing to do, messages to answer, work to figure out, and lunch to make.

It's in the conversations that weren't planned, the little things that make us laugh, the meals we throw together with whatever happens to be in the fridge, and the quiet moments when we finally get to sit down and breathe.

I don't want to overlook those parts of life simply because they don't seem particularly exciting.

I want to learn to appreciate them, too.

And perhaps that's part of what I hope to do through Written & Whisked: not just document the things I create, but pay a little more attention to the life happening around them.

I want to remember the recipes that worked and the ones that didn't. The things I learnt, the ingredients I fell in love with, and the afternoons that turned into something more memorable than I expected.

I want to write about the process, not just the finished product.

Because a finished cake might make a lovely photograph, but the story behind it is what makes it mine.

A little reminder to myself

If there's one thing I'm trying to remind myself as I begin this project, it's that I don't have to make everything extraordinary.

I can enjoy making an elaborate dinner one day and a simple lunch the next. I can spend hours decorating a cake, then get excited about discovering a new favourite ingredient. I can have days when the words come easily and others when I'll probably stare at a blank page for far too long.

I can be learning without having everything figured out.

And I can start something new without knowing exactly where it will lead.

Maybe that's what I like most about this little adventure so far. It's giving me permission to try things, to be curious, to make mistakes, and to create something simply because I want to.

Not because every recipe needs to be impressive. Not because every day needs to produce something worth showing off. And not because I need to turn every little thing I do into an achievement.

Sometimes, it's enough to make a nice lunch, sit down to enjoy it, and write a little about the day.

So, that's Day Two.

A tuna spread, a new appreciation for artichokes, and a few more thoughts on why I'm here.

If you're reading along, I hope you'll stick around. I'd love for this to be more than a collection of recipes. I hope it becomes a little corner of the internet where we can share in the learning, the creating, the occasional kitchen disaster, and all the ordinary moments in between.

For now, I'm calling that a pretty good start.

Day Two: complete.

Tomorrow, there might be another recipe to try, another kitchen experiment, or another little story waiting to be written. For now, I'm happy to have shown up for another day.

One simple lunch, a few thoughts on the page, and a reminder that not everything has to be extraordinary to be worthwhile.

Until tomorrow,

Chatty 🤍

Founder of Written & Whisked

(Follow my socials: Instagram - @WrittenandWhisked)