When I first moved to this city, I knew I didn’t want to fall into the eat, sleep, work, repeat rhythm that sucks all of the joy out of life. One of the reasons I am determined to branch out on my own is because it ensures I get to stay geographically close to the people who matter most to me. I went out with my friends on Saturday night, not, as one might expect, to a rowdy nightclub in the centre of town, but instead, to a nearby apartment block, for a dinner party.
Terribly, I did not get one picture of the marvellous spread our hostess laid on for us. She did a wonderful job at catering for my gluten-free needs. There was special bread, houmous, vegetables, roast peppers and sweet potatoes, roast tomatoes, cheeses and plenty more for us all to share. The evening was made complete with flowing wine and this delight:
Our hostess is a talented chef and this pavlova was to die for. I did have seconds and I don’t even care about admitting that. She had foraged for the blackberries that were grown locally and whipped yoghurt into the topping to give it a tang. A wonderful time was had by all who were present.
But after having an evening away from rationed food, I did notice more of a bloating sensation than I have been experiencing lately. It was a treat to have a meal with friends, don’t get me wrong, but I am becoming more and more convinced that rationed food is the way forward. I’ve also lost three pounds in the last week and a half. Now, I do have a fairly active job, but still, I think my shift in diet has played a role in that weight loss. I know I will have other blow-out dinners in the future, but for day to day eating, rationing wins for me.
The Domestic Storyteller 