All the things I wanted to say but couldn’t…
Nadiya Hussain is now often referred to as a national treasure.
Which she is.
But this adopting of her by a whole nation seems to ignore the individual stories of those who have found solace in both her story, and her food.
I watched Bake Off back in 2015, and yes, I was one of those who grew to love her. Endearingly funny without realising it, and completely oblivious to her own talent, we were all rooting for her until the end.
After bake off finished, however, I didn’t think much more of it. I liked her, but I didn’t continue to closely follow her story.
It was just after Christmas last year when I decided to buy her third cookbook, ‘Nadiya’s Family Favourites’. I’m not sure what made me do it – I didn’t own a single recipe book prior to that, and although I often cooked from scratch at home, it was never anything particularly complicated and I certainly hadn’t yet discovered the passion for food that existed somewhere within me.
In the first few months of this year, I tried following a few of her recipes, with varying degrees of success. There were however, occasions where I miraculously ended up with a dish that actually looked half decent. I’d take something out of the oven, and think, ‘I actually made that… and it wasn’t a disaster…’
Without really realising it, I was learning a lot and something was stirring inside of me.
It wasn’t until about April when things really changed. Working in a very challenging secondary school environment started to take its toll on me. I had struggled on for 8 months without saying anything, but it began to reach a point where it was obvious something was wrong, and there was nothing I could do to hide it, often finding it near impossible to drag myself out of bed to go to work without becoming hysterical.
Fast forward a few weeks and I eventually conceded that I needed time off, and began to talk about things that had been stuck in my head for as long as I can remember. This, coincidentally, was also the time at which Nadiya released her ‘Anxiety and Me’ documentary.
I didn’t watch it at the time, despite multiple people referencing it in conversation. At that point, I wasn’t prepared to be introduced to someone else’s struggles when I was working my way through a difficult time myself (I have since watched it, and am in awe of her as always).
Having a few months off work wasn’t what I had initially wanted, but I was very productive during that time. I kept active, going to the gym nearly every day, I completed a food journalism course whilst blogging and researching career options that would help to carve out a happier future for me, and I baked. I cooked and I baked and I baked and I cooked.
I remember in those first few days constantly worrying that everytime I posted on Instagram something that I’d made, people would be thinking ‘so she’s not at work but she’s ok enough to post all these photos of food and jolly captions.’
But it wasn’t like that.
As I sort of managed to tell Nadiya at her book signing on Sunday night, through blubbering, hyperventilated breaths, it was my therapy.
I realised that when I was at work in the kitchen, I literally didn’t think about anything else.
I then bought Nadiya’s second cookbook ‘Time to Eat’, and loved this one even more than the first. Her recipes incorporate everything from British comfort food (think baked beans, roast dinners, buttery English muffins and sausage and mash) to plates inspired by her Bangladeshi background (fattoush, chaat, lassi and halva) and then everything in between (enchiladas, pancakes, pizza and pastries).
Those few months were a whirlwind in the kitchen and I made some of the best food I’ve ever attempted.
Something inside me had been ignited, and I put so much of it down to the love of cooking that her recipes produced within me.
I began to write more about food, starting this blog and channelling all of my energy into what that made me happy.
After a pep talk from one of my closest friends, I made the decision to quit my job. It was a risk, as I didn’t have a plan, and for me, not having a plan is terrifying.
The funny thing is, I still don’t have one, the only difference now is that I trust that I’ll get to where I need to be regardless.
Last night (Sunday 1st December) I went to Nadiya’s book tour for her new memoir ‘Finding My Voice’ at the Royal Festival Hall, Southbank Centre in London. She spoke openly and eloquently about the many challenges she had faced and overcome, and still is overcoming in her life. Some of them were so far from anything I had ever experienced, and others spoke to me. Some of her fears are my fears, but some of her strengths (without wanting to blow my own trumpet lol) are my strengths.
I was lucky enough to meet her afterwards, but came away feeling like a ginormous idiot, as words failed me, and for reasons I couldn’t really explain at the time I got massively emotional. I actually blame the woman in front of me in the queue who also started to cry so it was her fault for setting the precedent. So yes, this big, long essay here is everything I was trying to explain to her, which just came out in sobs via my ugly crying face.
Who knew cooking and enjoying the incredible recipes that someone else has conjured up could have such an impact on me.
And now I can’t wait to spend every minute of my work shifts reading through the chapters of her life.
Nadiya is brave and inspiring. She’s funny and warm. And I hope that one day when I have children, they have someone like her to look up to.
Fangirling is a bit cringey. But as the title suggests, if you can cry over Beyoncé, I can cry over Nadiya.
……………..
Leaving it on a more light-hearted note, I now have 3 of Nadiya’s 4 recipe books and am gradually working my way through cooking a load of her incredibly diverse food, so just to get you salivating, here are a selection of my favourite and most successful attempts.
Chalo khai!
xo
¡Comemos! 