A Return to Simple Food: Starting the Year in the Kitchen
If I’ve learnt anything in my life so far, it’s that the times when I feel most at sea - the times when the ground feels unstable and the path uncertain - are the times when I have failed to follow the inner calling of my soul. They are the times when I’ve failed to make time and space to do those things which most nourish my inner self, and in the process, nurture and inspire me on my own creative journey.
Returning to the Kitchen
Cooking, baking and making bread are things which have always been important to me, yet somehow, in the last year, they have fallen a little by the wayside. Of course, this is life - things happen, and the ‘essentials’ of the day-to-day take over. Yet for me, these things are essentials, and for all of us, it’s surprisingly easy to lose sight of that. How I have missed the sensory experience of being in the kitchen - the smell of a new bag of stoneground flour, the feel of pliable dough, and the timeless steam rising from a bowl of porridge.
I have resolved this year to make time for these things once more - to treat them as life’s essentials, not just because we need to eat, but because it is these simple things which bring me joy and nourish the deepest parts of my soul. Returning to the kitchen feels like stepping back into a slow living kitchen, where simple food has its own kind of rhythm.
Why Food Connects Us to the Past
Over the past century, foodstuffs and ingredients have become ever more available. Not only is so much available at unethically low prices, everything is available to us all year round, flown from all four corners of the globe as our tastes demand. In recent years, I have sought a different route - simple food cooked well, with ingredients that are enjoyed in season.
We have also sought to buy British - not for some patriotic political aim - but because it is these things which have nourished our ancestors for centuries past. Food connects us deeply to those who came before us, and in a turbulent modern world, these traditional cooking practices help to ground us.
Simple, seasonal food is timeless - bread, porridge, butter, jam, soups, stews and puddings - it nurtures body and mind, and encourages us to sink into a gentle, seasonal rhythm with anticipation and patience. In wider society, instant, elaborate, and quite honestly, overly-curated meals have become the norm. You need only look at the numerous aisles of ready-prepared meals - fresh and frozen - in our supermarkets, to see how far ‘progress’ has brought us.
But for me, and for an increasing number of others who are seeking a slower, simpler and more seasonal life, simple food encourages us to return to traditional cooking practices, the results of which nourished the generations which came before us. I shared some of my favour seasonal cookbooks in this post:
Perhaps you feel the call to create something simpler in the kitchen? Something which truly nurtures and nourishes us in a way food has for centuries past.
Starting Small: Gentle Kitchen Practices
Of course, slow and simple runs against the grain of the modern world. Whilst home baking has seen a bit of a revival thanks to programmes such as the Great British Bake-Off, we are exposed to an almost endless stream of adverts for the next superfood, the upcoming latest health craze, and the newest invention which will revolutionise the way we cook.
But what if we took a moment to step back?
It’s not easy, but we can say “no” and we can, in our own way, seek an alternative approach to food and cooking.
As with all changes, start small. You could bake a loaf of bread, make a cake, enjoy porridge for breakfast instead of cereal, or make marmalade - a timeless January activity passed down through the generations. Perhaps the beauty of simple food is just that, its simplicity - a few consciously-sourced ingredients, prepared and cooked well. It is not about perfection, but about process - observing what we do, how it makes us feel, how it connects us to the past, and the way it allows us to live in tune with the rhythms of the changing seasons.
So often, when we say we “don’t have time”, what we really mean is that our time is already spoken for by habits we rarely question. I am guilty of this too. But making space for simple food does not necessarily mean adding something new to an already-full life; it can mean choosing differently within the time we already have.
A pot of soup made while the kitchen is being tidied, bread dough mixed while the kettle boils, porridge cooked slowly while the day begins to stir - these are not extra tasks, but quieter ways of meeting everyday needs. When we loosen our grip on the idea that everything must be quick, optimised or impressive, we often find that time softens and stretches. The kitchen becomes not another demand on our energy, but a place of gentle return.
If you’re looking to explore simple food further, I have put together a quiet collection of ideas to dip into - not a checklist, and not a challenge. You can download the free PDF below:
A Gentle Start to the Year
Even small steps in the home kitchen can cultivate a sense of patience and slow living in everyday life. In a world which craves more, we can find deep joy and satisfaction in accepting the simplicity of enough.
For me, returning to the kitchen is returning to myself. In tradition and simplicity, I find a deeply grounding rhythm. This January, returning to simple food offers a quiet way to begin the year with intention, rooted in practice, tradition, and care. As you embark on your own journey through a new calendar year, why not seek the simplicity and warmth to be found in the slow living kitchen.
How might you nurture and nourish your relationship with food this year? I’d love to hear from you in the comments below.
If this Journal entry resonated with you, I’d love to invite you to join our Rediscover · Reconnect · Re-Emerge community for weekly reflections and more inspiration.
