This morning I am feeling a little disillusioned. I didn’t like one of the two recipes of Marcella’s that I cooked last night.
I try to tell myself that it’s not the fault of Marcella’s recipe – there were only three ingredients and two of them were favourites of mine (red wine and bay leaves).
But it turns out that I don’t like chestnuts. I really don’t. I made myself eat three just to be sure – but I don’t like the taste or the texture. The little bit of the flesh that got flavoured by the wine and bay leaves was marginally better.
But still, I feel a little bit sad.
If I’m really honest, I didn’t love the ‘Boiled Courgettes’ I cooked in the summer either – but they were still much more enjoyable than the chestnuts.
Which brings me to another source of disillusionment.
If I don’t wish to ever eat chestnuts again, then there will be two recipes in the book that I won’t complete. I’m trying to decide if this is freeing or troubling. Does it free me to not feel I have to cook every recipe in the book? Or does it mean it’s a another project that I’ll inevitably not complete.
If I’m honest, there wasn’t a big chance of my ever cooking the fourteen recipes of the ‘Variety Meats’ chapter. But still, I had thought I might battle through them anyway.
But now I’m left with the reality of two remaining chestnut recipes.
It’s not a life-shattering dilemma, but today just feels a little more sombre and troubling than it might otherwise have felt.
Last night: #75 ‘Risotto with Saffron, Milanese Style’ and #76 ‘Chestnuts Boiled in Red Wine, Romagna Style’ with the lovely Dawn at my table.