I’m ashamed to admit that it has been far too long since I’ve actually sat down to breakfast of my own making in my house. Usually it’s a few eggs, made into frittata, unceremoniously wrapped in a paper towel and ziplock, and eaten on the go. Or, I’ll stop by a coffee shop near the office and grab something small – or a treat – a seeded bagel toasted with cheddar cheese. But today, run down, and tired, I went to the kitchen and fried some eggs, made a small pot of Turkish coffee, and sat, watching the rain come down. My body, it seems, is due for a little bit of rest.

While foraging in the freezer this afternoon, I stumbled across a single frozen bag of soup – marked 10/1/13 “Pork, Bean, and Sauerkraut“. Exactly a year to the day from when I stirred the pot – I knew I was to have this for lunch. The recipe is a beautiful one: Marcella Hazan’s La Jota – made with pork jowl, and fresh cranberry beans, from her brilliant work ‘Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking‘. I’ve learned so much from that book over the years, and this soup is a winner – cooked ever so lovingly last year, as it was the day after I heard that Marcella had died.

Fortified with soup, I worked through the afternoon, wrapping myself in blankets and hopping on the office hangouts – until I could stand being in the house no longer, and I shut my computer. I was hoping to head into the gym – it’s been so long! – but I knew that with how I was feeling it would be unwise, so option two was a quick bite to eat out of the house. I ended up at 51 Lincoln, where I (uncharacteristically) opted for a small cocktail – the old monk – hoping, seriously, to kill any germs (I drank half, I’m too much of a lightweight), and shared a few small plates: chicken liver pate, home made chorizo, and panisses, over conversation with a dear friend.

I’m still feeling unwell. Perhaps this is my body telling me that after cycling 300 miles in September, I need a little bit of rest.