The Susanne

I’m a friendly, smily, flirty, fun, hil­ari­ous, boring, per­fectly normal and totally weird girl of 23 who is trying enjoy life as much as I can. I love cook­ing, I love read­ing, I love knit­ting, I love music, I love singing (only to myself) I can’t dance to save my life and I wanted a cat so badly I went out and bought a bunny (I live in a city).

I love good lit­er­at­ure. And by good lit­er­at­ure I don’t mean only what is con­sidered good lit­er­at­ure by the many narrow-​minded, nose-in-the-air, pre­ju­diced liter­ati out there. My love spans from Jane Austen through James Joyce to J.K Rowl­ing and Gideon Defoe, I love John Updike and Jonathan Fran­zen, C.S. Lewis, E. M. For­ster and Sophie Kin­sella, Marian Keyes, Shakespeare and Gust­ave Flaubert. My abso­lute favour­ite at the moment is Oscar Wilde, but I’m sure I will change my mind again soon enough. When I finish my BA in Eng­lish lit­er­at­ure I will hope­fully go on to a mas­ters in pub­lish­ing: I’ve applied and now am only anxiously wait­ing for the letter saying I’m in!

My bunny, named Het­mann, is cur­rently living with The Ex as I lost him in the divorce — I’ve par­tial cus­tody though and I try to visit him as much as pos­sible. Why did I leave him there, you ask? Well, because it was in his best interest of course! The flat I shared with The Ex is much larger than the tiny room I have now, plus I’m now shar­ing a kit­chen and bath­room with another girl who could very well ‘turn me in’ for having a pet: they’re not allowed in stu­dent hous­ing. Where he is now he has plenty of space to romp around in and a ‘daddy’ who loves him so much I can only begin to ima­gine how amaz­ing The Ex will be with his own kids when the time comes!

As for my love of cook­ing, I inher­ited it from mum. Grow­ing up I never real­ised I ate so well. I used to feel envi­ous of my friends who got to order pizza from the local grill, were served spa­ghetti bolognese from a tin and Santa Maria Tex Mex tacos on a Friday night. My mum made everything from scratch. Fresh, healthy ingredi­ents and lots of love with it, and I can hon­estly say I’ve yet to taste some of her food that I don’t love.
Ever since we moved to the coun­try when I was three, she’s kept an amaz­ing veget­able garden which has provided us with beau­ti­ful lettuce, spin­ach, rocket, straw­ber­ries and rasp­ber­ries in summer, and deli­cious apples, plums, pota­toes, car­rots, swedes, leeks, and beets in autumn.
When I was little mum and dad faced the same dilemma each Sat­urday and Sunday morn­ing: should they get up early to keep me from turn­ing the kit­chen into a war zone — or sleep in, know­ing full well that when they get up they’ll have three hours of clean­ing up ahead of them, scrap­ing flour mixed with water, milk, eggs and about every spice in mum’s cup­board out  of every pan and mixing bowl she owned. They usu­ally opted for the last, and mum loves telling people that after about a year of this she was able to make waffles from what I’d mixed together.
And that is how my cook­ing career began.

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