Ancient Grains, Fresh Fish & Pressing Publish Anyway

Last week was full.

The kind of full that leaves you catching your breath on a Monday morning, cup of tea in hand, wondering how the weekend disappeared so quickly.

There were house visits. A Chinese New Year celebration for two with a client — intimate, thoughtful, meaningful. The kind of work that reminds me why I care so deeply about what I do.

Midweek, I travelled to Wembley Park for my Ancient Grain Baking course at the Bread Ahead school. The venue had moved from Borough Market, which meant twice the travel time and twice the cost — but some things are simply worth it.

I arrived early with my packed salad and sat on a bench in the sunshine before heading inside. A small act of nourishment before a day of learning.

Our teacher, Opi, was a gem — deeply knowledgeable, warm, and a brilliant storyteller. We were a small group, which made the day feel personal and hands-on.

We baked a spelt, buckwheat and honey loaf with amaranth and chia seeds — and I can honestly say it was the first bread I have ever made that felt like a love story.

There was a Khorasan tear-and-share ring filled with pesto and cheese (utterly delicious), but my absolute favourite was the ancient Einkorn flatbread made with sourdough starter and topped with linseed, sunflower, and poppy seeds. Toasted seeds. Deep flavour. Real food with history.

It reminded me that food is never just fuel.

It is culture. Story. Patience. Craft.

The next morning I took Lentil to her flute exam, and just like that, we rolled into the usual rhythm of children’s activities, house visits, and weekend life. On Friday, I walked to Garson’s — something I had not managed in a long time — to buy fresh fish for my nutritious fish tortillas.

And here is where the real shift happened.

I filmed myself making those fish tortillas last April. The video sat quietly for months. I told myself it was embarrassing. Not polished enough. Not professional enough.

But after walking back from Garson’s last Friday with fresh fish in my bag, something shifted. I felt motivated. Determined. Ready.

So I uploaded it to YouTube.

Perhaps a little bit mad. But it is done now.

And actually? It is not embarrassing. It is simply life. New beginnings come with challenges. Growth asks us to press “publish” before we feel entirely comfortable.

There are so many small moments like this in a week — things that do not look dramatic from the outside but feel quietly significant within. A packed salad eaten in the sun. An ancient grain handled for the first time. A long-postponed video finally shared.

We talk so much about confidence as if it arrives fully formed. In truth, it is built in ordinary days. In pressing “upload.” In showing up for house visits. In walking to buy fresh fish instead of choosing convenience.

Ancient grains. Fresh fish. Flute exams. YouTube uploads.

Progress does not always shout.

Sometimes it simply whispers, Go on. Do it anyway.

And so you do.

This is something I see again and again in the people I work with inside my 8-week nutrition programme. Change rarely arrives with fireworks. It begins with small, slightly uncomfortable decisions — replying to the weekly check-in even when you are busy, trying a new breakfast, going for the walk, cooking the fish, filling in the form, showing up.

Not perfect. Not polished. Just present.

And over time, those quiet acts build strength — in the kitchen, in the body, and often in places far beyond food.

Perhaps that is what last week reminded me of.

Growth does not require perfection.

It requires participation.

And sometimes, just the courage to press “publish.”

If you are feeling that quiet whisper yourself — the sense that it might be time to do something differently — my 8-week programme is always there as a place to begin. A steady framework. Gentle accountability. Real food. Real life.

You do not have to leap.

You simply have to start.