How To Begin Gently, Day 3: What’s In Your Pantry?

simple pantry

By now, many of us have given in to that culturally particular and peer-pressured urge to plan. To map. To decide. To declare where you are going next. But before intention, there is inventory. Before you ask yourself what you want, there is a simple and more easily answered question: What is already here?

The pantry is a good place to start because it is a kind of mirror. No flattery. The plans you declare out loud are aspirational, like your new diet or meal plan commitment. Your pantry simply holds what has accumulated through habit, preference, neglect, generosity, fatigue. It tells the truth. What you really rely on. What you ignore. What you bought for a version of yourself that never quite showed up. What’s missing. What’s in abundance. And sometimes this feels uncomfortable. Sometimes it doesn’t paint a pretty picture or reflect what we project in our public lives or what we wish for ourselves.

After the fire, when you first moved back in to your home, the pantry was pristine. Shelved with intention. Categorized. Snacks here. Pastas there. Condiments aligned. It was a small act of order after a consuming chaos, a way of saying this is the way that we are beginning again.

A year later, the shelves tell a different story. Not particularly of a failure, but of a very active life. It reveals a family not always on the same page. Different tastes, different rhythms. A steady stream of holiday house guests. Crumpled bags shoved wherever they will fit. Half-used jars. Things placed quickly, without thought or order, because life is pulling you all in what feels like a million different directions.

So today, on a rare day off from daytime operations and the high season’s busy dinner service, you turn toward the pantry again. Not to perfect it, but to read it. To assess. And you notice what’s been sustaining you. You notice what’s been ignored. You notice what you reach for when you’re tired, and what you save for a moment that never quite arrives. This isn’t about control. It’s about clarity. This isn’t a deficit exercise. It’s a creative one.

Because in the kitchen, the best meals rarely start with a blank slate. They start with leftovers, staples, half-ideas. These kind of constraints can sharpen your attention. You don’t cook against what’s there. You cook with it.

The same is true in life. We often rush to intention because intention feels hopeful. Inventory feels limiting. But intention without inventory is fantasy. Inventory without judgement is grounding. So instead of asking yourself what you should be doing next, you ask more practical questions: Where am I starting from? What’s already working? What’s been carrying me quietly? What have I been overlooking?

This pause before planning is where agency lives. Not in having more, but in seeing clearly. As you reorganize your pantry, you’re also doing something else. You’re prioritizing yourself and your home. Your wellness. Your daughter’s return to school. The rhythm of regular meals. Regular days. Your preparing not by imagining a better future, but by tending to what’s already under your care. And there’s relief in that. Even excitement. Because once you know what you have, you can make something real.

A pantry meal for the week ahead:

Pasta with Garlic, Greens and Breadcrumbs

Look at what you have: pasta, olive oil, garlic.

Add greens if you have them- kale, chard, spinach

Toast breadcrumbs in olive oil until golden. Salt them well.

Cook the pasta.

Saute garlic gently in olive oil.

Wilt the greens.

Toss everything together with pasta water to loosen.

Finish with breadcrumbs, black pepper, and whatever cheese you have- Parmesan, pecorino or none at all.

Taste. Adjust.

This is not a recipe as much as a reminder. Before you decide where you are going, take inventory of where you are. Your pantry. Your calendar. Your season. Your life. What you need is probably already here.