September Slump

Is it just me, or does everybody find the process of crossing the flimsy bridge that takes us from one season to the next slightly ... I dunno, if not entirely melancholia-inducing, then certainly a bit disconcerting? I could blame my current existential crisis on the fact that the weather refuses to comply with the calendar (Indian summer? Oh, spare me! This is Britain; we just don't do any kind of summer), but that's far too simple an explanation for my strangely delicate mood. Seasonally Affected Disorder, then? ADD would be closer to the truth. For I just cannot, no matter how hard I try, lift myself out of the lethargy verging on doldrums that sank upon me towards the end of last week.

Okay, getting ridiculously, childishly and unnecessarily drunk - partly at the opening of the gorgeous new Champneys spa, no less! - on Thursday evening didn't help my end-of-week mood; I spent Friday feeling physically and emotionally fragile, and hugely insecure about the wellbeing and feelings of those around me, without there being any solid, grounded reasons for feeling that way. I started Saturday in a much more positive frame of mind (and got loads of work done, too), only to sink back into the glums again after a particularly fractious (but not that unusual) spate of dealing with Medad. The BF (sorry, Dollface, for using your shorthand) eased the situation by taking us all to the Old Crown in Kelston for proper, pub-grub fish'n'chips eaten watching the sun set from the inn's orchard and the landlord arranged a special audience with his lovely rottweiler just for me (and the dog), but still, I came home feeling deflated and wanting to go bleeeurgh. Sunday was slightly better; after an air-clearing session with the BF (which loosely translates as me letting off steam about Medad and the BF patiently listening before giving the kitchen a clean-up makeover that's left it looking like the kind of culinary surgery that Gordon Ramsay might cook in), I spent a couple of hours in the sun on top of a nearby hill, flirting with squirrels while He practised his swing on the golf course. And then we went and reviewed Roger Monkhouse at the Comedy Cavern (ha ha ha! I'm happy to report that he was excellent - imagine my mood if that hadn't been the case!), and the weekend slowly turned into Monday ... and here we are.

I'm sorry about feeling sorry for myself because life's very good indeed, and I'm fully aware that not everybody is fortunate enough to feel that way, so I deserve a good shaking. As it is, I'm going to cook my way out of this emotional quagmire (see below), then put the results in the fridge for tomorrow night's dinner, as tonight is Curry Club so somebody else is cooking for me. I'll shut up now. Thank you for listening! See you soon.

Cook your way out of an Emotional Quagmire with the Animal Disco!
Courgettes, acorn and butternut squash; peppers, carrots and fabulous apples: put ‘em together and what have you got? A huge, colourful, wallet-friendly pile of September good stuff ... that can overwhelm rather than inspire the home cook. So here’s what to do.

Strip the squash of their thick skins, strip out the seeds (but don’t throw them away) and cut the flesh into chunks. Roughly chop the unpeeled carrots, courgettes, peppers and apples (yes, the apples too) into similar-sized cubes, adding a chopped onion to the mix. Tip the lot into a carrier bag (bear with us!), drizzle the contents with olive oil and a couple of grinds of sea salt and massage the lot together before tipping them – in a single layer – onto a preheated oven tray before roasting for around 50 minutes in a moderately hot oven.

Meanwhile, pour boiling water over a bowlful of cous cous, adding black pepper, a handful of fresh sage, some chopped tomatoes and a glug of balsamic vinegar once the water has been absorbed. Fifteen minutes before the end of cooking time, sprinkle the vegetables with the seeds from the squash. When everything looks sumptuously soft (and possibly a bit charred around the edges, which adds to the overall flavour), stir the roasted vegetables into the cous cous, whizz some tahini, plain yoghurt, lemon juice and honey together and serve with the cold dressing drizzled over the hot vegetable salad. Serve with roast pork, lamb or grilled fish fillets, and you’ve got September on a plate; if that's not food to lift the mood, I don't know what is.