Moving is no fun when you´re as disorganized as I am. It´s tough to face the fact that for years you have been keeping dozens of dried felt tip pens, that the stacks of drawings lurking in corners reach your knees, and that at some point there will have to be a cull of stuffed toys.
Then there´s the kitchen. I don´t buy any food, and I am determined to get to the bottom of the cupboards. They´re still stuffed with all sorts of useless things like bags of spelt and weird beans, which makes it all the more frustrating when you try to cook something.
Luckily, empty is never quite empty. On Friday night I was able to make a more than presentable soup out of some not very promising ingredients: a forgotten, dried up knob of ginger, a shallot I had overlooked, some rather frostbitten potstickers lurking in the freezer, a sachet of miso soup, and to pull it all together soy sauce, Tabasco and a dash of sherry.
Much, much better than the sum of its parts, as soup always is.
