I’ve always loved socialising over a shared meal. The dinner table was such an important place to chat and share news when I was a child. And yet I didn’t grow up cooking; indeed, it has long been a fear of mine. But why? I have travelled around the world on my own. I’ve given birth twice. I teach teenagers, for goodness’ sake! What is so frightening about cooking?

One reason, I think, was having so many older siblings who were extremely capable in the kitchen and seemed to produce beautiful meals effortlessly (as did my mum, of course).

Then there was circumstance. At university, I was in catered halls for 3 years, so I didn’t have to acquire those skills. As a young professional, I would rotate through pasta, pizza, and scrambled egg. On maternity leave, my husband bought me a recipe book (written by a teenager), and so I added spaghetti bolognese and carbonara to my repertoire. When the children were little, we visited friends in the Hague, who made us a delicious Jambalaya, which I then learnt to make, and so that became another staple of mine. At some point, I learnt to make a chicken and apricot tagine – another one-pot dish on my repertoire. And later I added fish pie as well. But I never really felt confident to invite people to dinner.

When we lived in Malawi, we were incredibly lucky to have a housekeeper, and Jeffrey prepared fabulous meals for us. This meant that people did come and eat with us at home, but almost never meals prepared by me. When we returned to Yorkshire, Covid hit, and so socialising indoors was not an option. But 3.5 years on from that, there is no good reason not to invite people around for a meal. Or is there?

The thought of preparing a 1 or 2 course meal for friends still fills me with dread. I do a lot of thinking while swimming lengths, so in the pool in January, I made myself address this conundrum head-on. What was holding me back? Friends had either already eaten my Jambalaya or they couldn’t due to their dietary needs. So why did I feel so stuck?

Well, I’ve always struggled with written instructions. I have to read them over and over before I understand them. If those instructions include multiple numbers and quantities, it becomes even more difficult for me. Add to that the pressure of expectation and knowing people are coming around, and my reading skills deteriorate even more! Hence, I’ve sought one-pot dishes; dishes with very few ingredients or dishes I know inside out.

If I’m being really honest, there is another deeper barrier to preparing meals. And that barrier is time. I don’t just mean the lack of time – the need to make dinner quickly due to more work to do afterwards, or the children needing me or simply being really hungry. I’ve always had this deap-seated issue with the amount of hours it takes to prepare food and the very few minutes it takes to eat it. This seems a disproportionate use of time, especially with my feminist ideals, when there are so many other demands on my time!

So, having decided in the pool to invite some people over in February, my wonderful sister offered to help me prep 3 dishes to serve. I thoroughly enjoyed this, but mainly because I always enjoy time with my sister, plus she was reading most of the instructions! The meal did go really well, too.

So, a week later, when my work friend recommended to me a new recipe book, ’15 minute Indian’, I was very keen to try it out. Could I do a meal for friends,.myself? I bought in all the spices, cupboard ingredients, and the fresh ones too and invited my mum – playing it safe the first time! Mind you, I did want to deliver some of the food to friends having a tricky week.

When I saw all the fresh ingredients on the kitchen side, it felt really pleasing. I put on a podcast and began peeling and chopping the sweet potato into cubes. As I began the same with the butternut squash, the podcast was talking about the importance of doing life at 3 miles an hour, of walking daily and of slowing down the pace of life. I realised that chopping the vegetables could be quite therapeutic. Is this what I had been missing all these years? The preparation can be enjoyable! I’ve always enjoyed a journey, not just the destination; maybe I can take this approach to cooking…

I took the same approach to measuring out the spices and put them in glass bowls ready for the 3 dishes I had planned. Just as I was wondering if it is all worth it – I’d normally buy a jarred sauce – the podcast spoke about how humans were designed for hard work and for challenge. Modern life has made so many things easier, and yet we have increasing struggles with our health and wellbeing. Somehow, it is good for us to grapple with things, to make physical effort, and not to have everything handed to us ‘on a plate’. (Plus, I bet my curry would taste better!)

The dishes turned out well, and everyone enjoyed them. I was even able to drop some off for our friends. In the past, all the hours of food preparation would have only been worthwhile if friends or family told me how good it tasted or that they really enjoyed it. Suddenly, I was finding that I didn’t need that; it was an added bonus, but the real joy had been in the making, in the slowing myself down and doing things methodically.

Who knows what I’ll manage to make next…and who knows, maybe I’ll even grow some culinary confidence?