I reached nirvana… at the back of my freezer

AS THE wider world appears to have unravelled into chaos, what better time could there be to sort out one’s freezer? We might not have much agency when it comes to who’s running the Government, any new horrors Putin will inflict on Ukraine, or the current cost-ofliving escalation. But, there’s a degree of sanity available in domestic organisation.

Which is what’s brought me to excavating the freezer, something I haven’t attempted for a good decade. When you’re looking for distraction from the problems of the world, a freezer is as good a place as any to start.

I was inspired to dive into the depths of my cold store by the seemingly endless list of chefs extolling the virtues of batch cooking as a way to help counteract the fuel crisis. Why cook just one meal’s worth of meatballs when you can knock up enough for several and save money on the fuel involved in the process?

I also have a confession to make: I love nothing more than to pore over Instagram posts that show me how to make my freezer look like Gwyneth Paltrow’s larder, or at least how I imagine hers looks, with perfect ranks of clean, labelled storage.

But what treasures there were to be found deep in the icy bowels of my freezer! The packets of mini croque-monsieurs I’d bought for my last book-launch party which was scuppered by the Covid pandemic; the frozen beetroot ravioli with a date stamp from the last decade; the many plastic containers labelled ‘Turkey stock’ with no date attributed, and a huge number of sausages from who knows where and from which century.

Then there were the endless portions of lockdown soups, all an indeterminate orangey brown. Oh, and a lonely lamb chop.

The only way I could reach the nirvana I sought of a beautifully organised freezer was to chuck the whole lot out. Well, everything but the chicken stock I made last week and the remains of slightly unsatisfactory mushroom casserole from the other night in an attempt to be economical and which I hope will live to see another meal, but this time with a much-needed addition of some tasty beef.

The sight of a near-empty freezer is giving me the kind of calm that endless attempts at mindfulness rarely achieve. It’s the same feeling you get when you move into a new home – so spacious and beautiful and full of possibility that it feels criminal to put in the furniture. Now, going into this winter of austerity, my freezer is ready to serve. It will be the kind of place where it is possible to find a meal that you just defrost when unexpected guests come over (have you ever managed that? I haven’t). It will be the depositary of all kinds of leftovers, stored beautifully with handwritten labels ready to be turned into magical new dishes. It will never again see a clutch of one quarter-filled packets of frozen peas. I have a plan and there will be no U-turns.