Feast or famine

And what I love cooking in between

I feel like I owe you a little explanation for my absence over the last couple of weeks.

Recently, I was at an event speaking with a friend who also works in food media. As we chatted about work, deadlines, opportunities and the general chaos of content creation, she described our industry as “feast or famine.”

I’d never heard that expression used in this context before, but the moment she said it, I knew exactly what she meant.

For weeks, things can feel quiet. You wonder where the next project is coming from, you catch your breath, organise your life and promise yourself that when things get busy again you’ll be ready. Then suddenly, all at once, every opportunity, deadline and commitment arrives on the same day.

As I sat there feeling completely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of work on my plate, she looked at me and said, “You’re in the feast.”

Then she added something that has stayed with me ever since: “Don’t you wish you’d rested a little more when you were in the famine?”

The truth is, she was right.

Only a few weeks earlier I had been telling myself I should be doing more, creating more and planning more. Instead of embracing the quieter period, I spent much of it worrying about the busy season ahead.

And then, inevitably, the feast arrived.

The last two weeks have been full in the best possible way, but they’ve also reminded me that rest isn’t something we earn after the work is done. It’s something we need to embrace while we have the chance.

Then, last week, my father-in-law arrived with a giant garbage bag full of silverbeet from his garden. Not a basket, not a box, a garbage bag, because there was simply too much of it to fit anywhere else.

I’d been thinking a lot about slow winter cooking and how much I’d been craving it. The kind of cooking that asks you to linger in the kitchen a little longer. The kind that fills the house with warmth and gives your hands something repetitive and comforting to do. But between work, deadlines and life, I hadn’t really given myself permission to indulge in it.

That oversized bag of silverbeet felt like a sign.

I hope you get a chance to make this one day! Its the kind of cooking that rewards patience. A true winter meal, designed for slow afternoons, crowded tables and the simple pleasure of gathering around a pot that's been gently bubbling away for hours.

Have the best week,

Karima xo