About two years ago, I started a draft of a post with this very name; Kiki had had her heart broken and asked me to post on the puku with some heartmending foods.. I thought I’d do something comforting, and then ask you all to tell us what your go-to comfort food was. Sorry Kiki, I never got this past the draft, until now.
I’ve written this post in my head about a hundred times over in the past couple of months, but the words are harder to find than I thought they would be now that I’m sitting here ready to write it. It’s quite simple really (and many of you already know): In March, Tom and I broke up, divided and packed up our 7 years of shared life, and said goodbye.
It broke my heart, completely and utterly and painfully. This probably needs no elaboration for most people – broken hearts are not so uncommon. But a smashed open open heart is nevertheless open, and openness is such a blessed state to be in. So, I let myself be brokenhearted, and here I am. Of course there a SO much more to that story, both gutwrenching and soulsoaring, but essentially, that’s where I’ve been the last few months. Thank you for still dropping by 🙂
As for Food for the Brokenhearted, I really wasn’t interested in any of the comfort foods I had thought would be Brokenhearted Food. I had my kitchen in boxes, unpacked in the new place, for weeks – in fact much of it is still packed. nibbling on fetta, sourdough, rocket and tomatoes led to.. boiling pasta: the first sign of cooking.
Then some real Food for the Brokenhearted: escape. I canceled meetings, got on a plane and met friends in Townsville for 10 days. I went to a tropical island (my tropical island! also OUR tropical island, but that’s ok too),
I walked, I lay in the sun, I swam, I talked and cried and drank and laughed. This is Food for the Brokenhearted.
And we at pineapples on the balcony of our A-Frame.
Thank you Miss C for the invite/prompt, and everyone in the Ville for the aroha, laughs, beds and shoulders. And everyone in Sydney/London/NZ/Germany/Finland etc etc etc for the same over the past few months too – love you so much!
So back in Sydney (via a funeral in NZ), boiling pasta expends to sauteing something, a little foray of popping something in the oven (vegetables coated in miso), discussing blogging again, starting to read about food again, and digging through the boxes for a microplane, and then finally baking trays, I surprise Miss C with a text that I am baking and running late to meet her.
I’m baking, I’m taking photos, I am here. Thank you for being here too.