I’ve never been one for New Year’s resolutions, the effort of crafting precisely the right, life-changing intention to hold as a motto for the year, carries for me all the stress of The Genie‘s 3 wishes. ‘If I phrase it right, make it memorable and demanding, but not infeasibly demanding, then perhaps it will work and make me a shinier, more marvellous human being’ – or not -the pressure could simply discourage me and have the opposite effect intended.
So I don’t make resolutions, nor do I give things up for Lent… >>after that one year when I decided to give up cheese and after about 10 days without it, went on a binge of undreamt of proportions such that my veins practically flowed with fondue.
So today, feeling a bit tired and apathetic, I did a little Viennese waltzing with my toddler, round the living room (dodging the Duplo and other new Christmas toys); and then made Moroccornish Pasties. They would have been Cornish, but we had no onion or swede, so I used spinach and potato and mince, and enormous amounts of random spices, which ended up tasting rather Moroccan.
So with hindsight, my new year’s resolution is to learn to make flaky pastry from scratch. Done.