Good-bye proverbial Mud Pie

"old folks say, ya poor little fool" 

- Runaways

Some experiences are just informing – going to university say, traveling, or appearing on a national tv series called Masterchef. But these are just catalysts; everything else comes unbidden. For most people growing up means getting a job, money, and not gyrating to house music as much as they used to. For others its means something different. When getting a job is impossible and claiming the dole is even harder, and you feel yourself slipping back into disaffected youth. This is my generation; squatting where they can and living at home when the rent money or couches wear out. Or at least this is me…

Since graduating from Oxford University in July I’ve had a strange run. Blinded by that tenuous invincibility of the post-university naive, I launched myself onto the terrifying trapeze that I call life. My attempts to navigate a swamp of a recession, festering with unemployment and instability, have led me to some interesting places. I got as far as Mexico. Learning to live; sink or swim.

Same old, maybe. But this time, there were recipes. Edible memories, like the mud pie I once cooked on Masterchef, but with childhood left behind, 25k of students loans behind…

The tales they tell should, at the very least, be mouth-watering.