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  • Eat at the world’s best restaurant (currently El Celler de can Roca
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ABOUT EATORI

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This blog is home to the stories of a Sydney born food writer, Victoria (Tori) Haschka. It’s the story of The Hungry One (the husband) and our mutual search for the best ways to eat, drink and be merry.

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All the chicken soup. Most predictable post-move c All the chicken soup. Most predictable post-move chest infection has arrived. Am so pleased to be reunited with my pressure cooker, knife sharpener, beloved spatulas, microplane and ice cream scoop (which I use for cookies 😂). Funny how the little things are such big anchors to daily ease and comfort. The boxes are nearly cleared, I have some socks without holes and a swathe of dresses hanging in a wardrobe, but nowhere to wear them. But it’s nice to look at them. Other things that are good for morale; add a Parmesan rind to your chicken stock as it simmmers then serve the broth with steamed leeks you’ve finely diced and seasoned for the soup version of a warm shower and clean sheets, watch ‘Home’ on Apple TV for Grand Designs without the ‘will the windows arrive from Germany in time’ stress, and tell me you don’t now want to live in a house beneath a greenhouse, re read ‘Heartburn’, because it always helps.
When your sister drops ‘welcome to the ‘hood’ flowers from @shadyfig to your door and they and she are so glorious that you cry. 😭 Moving in a pandemic has a way of bringing out all the feelings. (Today we tackle kitchen, laundry and clothes, plus homeschool and a four year old. Can we do it? 🤞)
When the Thai in your new small town is closed on When the Thai in your new small town is closed on Wednesday night, you thought you would have moved into your next, for-now house today, but a Covid clearance test for your Removalist scuttled that plan; bring on the children’s leftovers and fridge foraging,(brown rice, pulled pork, cucumber, coriander and beetroot kraut). It has been quite the week/month/year. Oh, and some pink wine. Don’t forget that bit.
RUOk day feels like a bit of a punchline in parts RUOk day feels like a bit of a punchline in parts of Australia right now. The last day or two have been very heavy as the significance of tenants moving into my house sinks in. (There was also an issue with blocked pipes, ponds of effluence to be cleaned, furious four year olds and the compounding exhaustion of 4 am starts for quiet writing time). But right now, there is tea/ and next week I will have my kitchen things and my pillow and some more socks without holes in them and they are all good things. I am also channeling Katherine May from ‘Wintering’; ‘When everything is broken, everything is up for grabs. Change will happen in its wake.’ We just have to keep our eyes on the horizon and each other and make it through. I hope you are as ok as you can be. X
Things that are good for morale; tree houses, semi Things that are good for morale; tree houses, semi hard sheep cheese with cold slices of fennel and green olives (excellent substitute for any meal), ‘The Chair’ on Netflix (Amanda Peet was the best thing about ‘Studio 60 on Sunset Strip’ but her writing is 👌), catching tadpoles in the pink sunset, blackberry and pear crumble- potentially for breakfast with yoghurt, outsourcing some reading to Audiobooks in the car for the kids (thanks Stephen Fry), emergency negronis in cans, the hour in the dark before your children wake up when you can get more done than you ever thought possible. Also the constants of being vaccinated, tea, baths and occasionally hiding from your children. (Not so good for morale; home learning, lonely four year olds, the stress of whether all your belongings will fit in the house you move into in 10 days and trying to write to deadline around all those other things). Onwards. (Hope you are all ok).
A two week window of life at the end of a country A two week window of life at the end of a country lane. The kids are riding bikes everywhere and we smash through most school work by lunch. I work on another draft of book 2 in the hours before dawn and by 9pm most nights I’m down and out, incapable of sensible thought. The kids have suckered me into toasted marshmallows most nights and the eggs we whisk for french toast for lunch have yolks that are marigold. (Will likes his with brown butter and Parmesan, Evie with peanut butter, honey and sprinkles- she is essentially channelling The Rock’s cheat meals 🤣). The days blur into each other and it’s wild to think we left with winter coats and boots packed and now it’s spring. There have been less tears the past few days. In two weeks we move again, this time to a longer term lease. Summer will be spent in a cottage in town. Who would have thought 2021 would be like this? Once more into the breach, I guess.
Basic epiphany for the day; when things are rough Basic epiphany for the day; when things are rough (some days will be), treat yourself like a baby. Literally. Make sure you are fed, clean, been to the bathroom, then wrap yourself up and put on some white noise and go to sleep, even if it is at 8.20 pm. I promise things will be a bit easier in the morning.
Things that are good for morale; salt spray, nut b Things that are good for morale; salt spray, nut brown butter; in bakes and over sautéed greens or roast pumpkin with Greek yoghurt, chilli and garlic, anything with Emma Stone or Thompson (or both together- thanks Cruella), teaching 8yr old boys the music of your teen years, driving country roads and playing ‘spotto’ with cows and goats, ‘Hacks’ and @quattro.pizzeria in Berry for Friday night feasting. Hope you are ok where you are.
For anyone wanting an audiobook to keep them compa For anyone wanting an audiobook to keep them company on mental health walks/surreptitiously put in their ear while they play ‘sick baby cat’ for a second straight hour with a four year old who can’t go to Kindy, can I endorse this, for this quote alone. ‘Wisdom resides in those who have wintered’. I needed a bit of a brain shift yesterday to reckon with the upheaval of this social-winter and this has helped enormously.
I’m doing a dab hand in the 3am wake, don’t go I’m doing a dab hand in the 3am wake, don’t go back to sleep swirling feelings thing at the moment. I don’t deal well with being rootless (we don’t move properly for another 3 weeks and the idea of strangers packing up my house/not being able to go back is just a bit unsettling). Trying to focus on the nice things; Evie’s flower collages, 6 am mugs of tea, the spouse and me both being double vaxxed, Ted Lasso, beach walks, the fact that with country air Will hasn’t had a croup episode in 8 weeks (previously unheard of). Any other tips?
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  • thelittleloaf | Happy days baking and blogging in South West London

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You can contact via twitter (@ToriHaschka), or at victoria@haschka.org.uk, or see About EATORI

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