Monday, May 12, 2025
Blog Page 474

Sleep is for the Rich

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This may sound familiar. 
Five political prisoners are locked in a gas chamber in 1940s Russia. In a military-sanctioned experiment, the subjects are kept awake for fifteen consecutive days with an airborne stimulant. While the first few days pass relatively normally, things then start to escalate dramatically. Starting with hour-long bouts of screaming, the experiment is ultimately terminated early when the prisoners start violently disembowelling themselves and eating their own flesh. When the stimulant is switched off, however, they beg hysterically for it to be turned back on. When they ultimately fall asleep, they die. 

At various levels of gore and apparent credibility, The Russian Sleep Experiment was a popular urban myth, reposted tirelessly in 2015 on the then notorious creepypasta. The story and the website have since subsided into the dark, forgotten corners of our cultural memories (with good reason). But the idea behind the story in many ways embodies the enduring societal anxiety about the fundamental role of sleep. 

Insomnia sufferers might find a resonance with the disguised cautionary tale – bar the disembowelment and questionable eating habits. At the very least on the level of being stuck in a room night after night, staring at the same ceiling and wondering if you’re steadily losing your grip on reality. The Sleep Experiment taps into the very fear that, ironically, keeps a lot of insomniacs up at night: what happens if you never get to sleep? 

Though everyone can sympathise with having a sleepless night or two, for those who do not struggle with the sleep condition, it is hard to comprehend exactly how detrimental an effect it can have on your quality of life. While the urban myth is hysterical and unfactual, the effects of sleep deprivation are very, very real. From fatigue, short term memory problems and irritability on one end of the spectrum, to difficulty communicating, depression, paranoia and hallucinations on the other, everyday tasks move from challenging to insurmountable. 

As someone who has suffered from chronic insomnia since an early teenager, I also know how completely isolating it can seem. Feeling too exhausted to join your friends on nights out, only to hear them come back again at 5 in the morning because you’ve somehow failed at the apparently effortless task of falling asleep again – is disheartening. Being made to feel like a drug-pushing degenerate because you’ve gone back to your doctor to ask for sleeping pills again – is degrading. And at it’s worst, putting on a brave face during a tute while you’re sleep-deprived brain is projecting neon-coloured triangles around your tutor’s head – is terrifying, not to mention quite distracting. 

Most of all however, the emptiness of those early hours in the morning, as your brain goes over mundane details again and again, chants snippets of song lyrics, composes letters to your gran you’ll never write, revisits conversations from weeks ago, conjures up small anxieties and projects them onto the inside of your eyelids with inescapable vividness, all make you feel utterly alone. In the oppressive darkness of your bedroom, you fight a demon by yourself that everybody else can call a friend – or just doesn’t even think about. 

Except that’s not true. According to some studies 22% of people in the UK struggle to fall asleep every single night. An additional 15% report struggling to get to sleep at least once a week. In a single month in 2019, the NHS issued 438,399 prescriptions for Zopiclone, one of the most commonly used sleeping pills. Yet despite affecting over a third of the population, awareness surrounding the complications arising from sleeplessness is limited, and there is very little in the way of online supportive communities as there are with many other prominent health conditions. 

The availability of and accessibility to help is the bigger dilemma, however. For one, the approach to insomnia varies dramatically from doctor to doctor. Under some, patients are condescendingly reprimanded about their sleep hygiene, essentially dismissed with the instructions to do some more sport and have a hot drink before bed (and sure, for some this may be a solution). Others leap immediately to the prescription pad and hand out Zopiclone and other sleeping pills after a 3-minute conversation. 

This is despite the fact that in 2012 the Great British Sleep Survey established that those taking sleeping pills have a poorer wellbeing and associated with “greater feelings of helplessness, loneliness and being out of control.” GBSS urged the medical and psychological field to pour more funding and research into non-drug solutions to insomnia, but the reason behind the reluctance to do so is painfully apparent. Melatonin, while it does not work for everyone, is an experimental alternative to traditional sleeping pills with no known long-term complications such as developing tolerance or addiction. It costs the NHS £22.70 per prescription. Sleep programs including CBT and sleep clinics no doubt cost a lot more. Zopiclone costs them 66p per prescription. 

Recently, GPs have started indicating that the NHS might be cutting back on their facilities for sleep health, including sleep clinics for physical sleep conditions such as sleep apnoea and narcolepsy. In the absence of free treatment facilities, doctors have started directing patients to private sleep clinics. Of course, this is only an option for those who can afford it. Even the NHS online port of call for insomniacs, a program called SleepStation unflinchingly presents itself as a two-tier system, providing the option to ‘Request free NHS referral’ or ‘Buy now’. 

There’s no doubt that this will lead to inequality in the distribution of health services. Not to mention the fact that it will ultimately cost the NHS more money to address the long-term physical implications of chronic insomnia cases, which can lead to diabetes, cardiovascular disease, anxiety and depression and drug or alcohol dependence. 

My doctor, conceding that when he had last contacted the only NHS-run sleep clinic in Oxford, they had told him their specialist had left several months ago and they were unable to find a replacement, has also made the suggestion of private sleep clinics. He made a good-humoured joke about hoping I had rich parents and when I suggested to pay for the treatment with my student loan, instantly protested. But this is the position that the growing privatisation of “periphery” health facilities will be putting a lot of students in. And they’ll be removing the choice entirely for those in positions less fortunate than myself. 

Sleep is a fundamental need. Sleep is not just for the rich. Surely, we should not unprotestingly be heading towards a world in which sleep quality becomes an indicator of wealth. To me, that sounds just as nightmarish as the Russian Sleep Experiment. 

A little clueless never hurt nobody: the value of revisiting old favourites

Social media and news feeds in the wake of the pandemic have been full of enthusiastic headlines that suggest “Ten New Hobbies” to pick up, :The Award-winning Movies of 2019 You Missed” to watch, “Fifteen Trail-Blazing New Books” that you forgot to read in the early months of 2020. Just because we are vegetating physically within our homes, goes the feeling, does not mean we will also culturally stagnate. There is a consequent sense, worldwide, that this extended period of hiatus has allowed us to play catch up with pop culture and its artefacts— film, television, books and even activities— that have been constantly changing and updating while we were apparently stuck in our respective rat-races in the outside world. Yet what of those who will find this the perfect time to indulge in a kind of nostalgia, a revisit of the long summers and Christmas vacs of childhood and young adulthood that weren’t marked by deadlines or whirlwind trips abroad? They will rediscover the cheesy animation, the boarding-school adventures, and questionable outfits of a bygone era. Are we less culturally involved or intellectually stimulated than those with last year’s Pulitzer winner on their to-read list?

My friends and I have been using the wonderful Netflix Party extension to check off movies from a BuzzFeed list entitled ‘How Many Of These 50 Iconic Rom-Coms Have You Seen?’: using social distancing to immerse ourselves in the romantic clichés of the 1990s and early 2000s that we watched at high-school sleepovers. As the credits began to roll on maybe the fifth such film, my friend asked the question on all of our minds— why do we suddenly hate the protagonist of every rom-com? Scrolling through the texts we sent during the movie, I realised we had indeed been spending our time commenting on how much these characters’ actions, attitudes and dialogues were bothering us.

According to one Guardian writer, “re-reading is a crime”. It seems one must broaden their horizons rather than re-reading a novel, because the only real reason for a re-read, and this extends to a re-watch, is that we didn’t understand the thing in the first place. But in context of our rom-com binge, putting aside the obvious condescension of watching in a different era where we literally do understand more — think of the collective cringe at yellow-face Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, or the questionable content of Grease lyrics — there was something deeper, a specific revulsion from these characters and their actions that was caused by more than just our political correctness. These characters had always been this way: we as viewers were the ones who had probably been less aware, less cognisant of how Mia’s behaviour in the Princess Diaries was not awkward so much as plain rude, less understanding of how Mean Girls’ Cady Heron is herself a terrible friend. Rather than considering how and why the movie wanted us to respond a certain way, we once gave into the construction of “villain” and “heroine” that necessitated justifying all the protagonist’s terrible actions, whilst vilifying the justified actions of the antagonist. The countless articles and YouTube analysis videos that re-watch and comment upon the flaws and issues of films and TV shows considered cultural classics are testament to how much we want to make up for our earlier acceptance by retrospective re-evaluation of the very works we loved.

Maybe, then, the surprisingly strong annoyance one feels toward these characters upon re-watching is not just an expression of how problematic you now find them, but further enhanced by a desire to separate yourself— pointedly and uncompromisingly— from the past version of you that did root unquestioningly for a cringe-worthy rom-com heroine. Re-watching allows us to change and to recognise that growth within ourselves; not only have we actually evolved as people, but we learn to see ourselves as those more evolved people, more socially conscious, more in-the-know than ever before.

Yet there is little reason that our beloved films and books have to be outgrown and left behind to focus on more contemporary cultural content, and the fact that we understand them differently now does not invalidate how we loved them before. With literature, the “cultural continuity” of books has often been used as a yardstick for whether they can be considered classics or not. Recall the high-school English teachers harping on about the continued relevance of Shakespeare because everyone can at some point in their lives relate to the existentialism of Hamlet, or how the Great Gatsby was re-read to sympathise with Daisy in the late-20th century ages of feminist protest. Why is there an insistence that other cultural works cannot undergo a similar evolution, if at an individual level, under a shorter timeframe? Letting go of an old understanding is not the same as letting go of a cultural production altogether: take the Twitter and Instagram threads defending Sharpay Evans from High School Musical as opposed to protagonist Gabriella Montez, none of which denigrate the High School Musical series itself. Rather, those who grew up alongside the series have realised Sharpay’s character arc— a girl who is trying to win the heart of a boy she likes as well as excel in her field, using whatever means necessary — is more relatable than that of the perfect, self-sacrificing Gabriella.

Finding new characters to relate to and new aspects of these films to love mean we retain the significance of their role as sources of comfort, while still engaging in stimulating exercises of analysis and understanding like we would with newer works. There is no harm in reframing these current feelings of isolation and entrapment as a nostalgic summer of endless promise by pressing play on Clueless for the fourth time, because we will inevitably stop to consider whether we, too, could pull off wearing yellow plaid to work.

Oxford’s Best Chip Van: A Highly Scientific Study

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It has long been the cause of much adversity: college has turned against college, student against student…oh yes, it has even caused BNOC to turn against BNOC – a terrible thing indeed.

The sheer ruckus surrounding it can only be said to rival that caused by the closure of Emporium, the unprecedented replacement of the Toffee Deluxe Quality Street with the Chocolate Caramel Brownie (an unforgivable offence), and even the disappearance of the dancing pole from the second floor of Bridge (It still hurts to think of it. Bridge Thursdays have never been the same.)

This fiery debate centres on one vital question: which Oxford chip van is the best?

When one poor soul, lulled into a confidence that only three VKs consumed in Park End can provide, dared to conjecture that Posh Nosh served up Oxford’s best chips, they were expelled from the cheese floor before they had the chance to listen to ABBA’s ‘Dancing Queen’ for a fourth time. A cruel fate indeed, especially for the Park End frequenter, to whom such a judgement proves to be the most heinous of all, living for the repetition of such tantalizing rhythms.

It was high time for someone to put an end to this age-old dispute and I thought that I, being an English student, and thus not knowing how to conduct a fair test, would be a slightly below average person for the job, so I took the burden upon myself to do so.

This was a wholly unbiased study.

First and foremost, I needed a representative selection of chip vans.

An entirely fair scientific process ensued. I based the following selection of chip vans exclusively on the advice of a slightly tipsy curtain-haired boy outside of Fever. Thinking back, he probably wasn’t the most reliable of sources. He did, however, repeatedly reassure me that these vans were ‘absolutely f***ing yummerzz mateee’ so I’m taking that as commendation enough, resulting in the following four vans being chosen:

  • Hassan’s
  • Solomon’s
  • Ahmed’s
  • McCoy’s

Secondly, I needed to ensure that the other variables were controlled.

  • I had the same three people, along with myself, taste-test each of the different chips. These persons shall remain anonymous for their safety, lest their views cause too much uproar among certain dedicated chip van supporters. They shall henceforth be identified only as anonymous persons 1,2 and 3.
  • From each van the same order was placed: a small portion of chips with ketchup on the side.
  • Each chip was to be tested according to the same three categories: appearance, crispiness and flavour.

With this established, the plan was complete. All that remained was to journey to the vans, obtain the chips, and return them to my delightfully beige accommodation for testing.

Ahmed’s

The most potato-esque of the bunch.

With their speckled appearance and knobbly surface, we sought much needed comfort in the fact that these chips did indeed seem to have originated as real potatoes.

Each glance seemed to transport us away from the surrounding 1960s architecture to a kind of pastoral bliss. Indeed, anonymous person 2 seemed entirely captivated by their rustic charm.

An admirable crispiness, and a rich flavour perfectly accommodated its attractive exterior.

Special mention goes to the ketchup, which had a certain vibrancy that I had never quite encountered before, nor will I ever again, I believe.

McCoy’s

Nestled between St Aldate’s Church and Pembroke College, McCoy’s is a hidden gem.

The aesthetic of these chips is truly something else. Each chip is seemingly identical in size and appearance, and the neatness of it all is truly a wonder to behold.

Anonymous person 3 was so enchanted by their uniformity that they were rendered quite speechless.

With an exquisite taste to top it all off, these chips are exactly what you need after a regrettably messy night in Park End.

Soloman’s

Direct, unadulterated quote from anonymous person 1: ‘that’s f***ing delicious.’

In fact, with this, anonymous person 1 seems to have perfectly summed up these chips: they truly are ‘f***ing delicious.’

A perfect crispiness and flavour, it seems that these chips can really do no wrong.

Hassan’s

It is purported that when you leave Oxford you will either have a spouse, a blue or a first – regardless of which you leave with, it is impossible that you could leave without having tried these chips.

Truly the BNOC of the Oxford chip scene, it seems that its status is unparalleled.

With a masterfully crispy exterior and a light and fluffy inside, the delicious taste of a Hassan’s chip is undeniable.

Appearance 10/10, Crispiness 10/10, Flavour 10000/10

These chips have been, and will remain God-tier.

Conclusion:

After much heated debate and rigorous scientific testing between myself and anonymous persons 1, 2 and 3, a winner was decided upon.

*Drum roll please*

The title of best chip van in Oxford was awarded to…

Hassan’s

It was a tough competition, with all participants deserving of much commendation and respect. But it was clear that there was only one true van to which one should journey to get the necessary chips after stumbling out of Park End, and that one true van was of course Hassan’s.

*DISCLAIMER: despite the overwhelming scientific evidence pointing towards Hassan’s as the superior chip van in Oxford, I must state that McCoy’s is in fact the best chip van. This alternative conclusion is, but of course, utterly unbiased, impartial, and entirely objective. It has absolutely nothing to do with any college loyalty to this particular chip van – I would never allow such a thing to affect, or cloud my judgement, on matters of serious importance*

Calm Down About Your Five-Year Plan

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The five-year plan is an invisible timeline that you can either craft for yourself, or have written for you by others. It dictates the big steps that a young professional can take to reach their dreams and goals; the extra-curriculars, the internships, the degree classification, the first job out of university.

You can basically fall into two camps; someone who has one – the career plan, the dream firm, and an actual LinkedIn account – and someone who’s still working it out. The universal, I think, is that we’ve all felt the twinge of anxiety that comes from meeting someone who seems to have it all figured out, who knows where they have been and seems to know exactly where they are going.

Though different for each person, the five-year plan seems to end its maker at one of three end goals: finance, consultancy, or law. Politics or journalism, if you’re feeling adventurous. This isn’t to say, of course, that going into a career in any of these sectors is necessarily a bad thing. There are obviously worse things in life than working diligently at your degree, building a marketable CV and going into a well-paid job in a competitive field. But it’s worth asking where the five-year plan comes from, and why it’s so insidious here in particular.

It makes sense that the five-year plan is so attractive for Oxbridge students, particularly those for whom “getting into Oxford” has been a goal for so long. If you have spent a year or longer frantically working at the ever-more competitive application process then you have already trained to compete with your peers in a familiar, regulated way. You have already achieved a marker of societally-approved, parentally-sanctioned, institutional success and it can feel difficult to know exactly where to go from there.

The straight path from a place like Oxford to a place like Deutsche Bank, or McKinsey, or the Magic Circle can feel as familiar as the path you took to get here. The undergraduate who has their second-year internship planned out, who is lining their CV from the first term they get here, is only going to feel the same safety and warmth of validation they got from their acceptance email.

This isn’t to say that it’s something to be criticised, but it is something to be questioned. Oxford is a place that often attracts a certain personality type; the dedicated, the ambitious, and the person who has grown so used to working under pressure that it can feel uncomfortable not having a goal to aim at. Ambiguity about what you want the rest of your life to look like is, after all, completely terrifying. 

Oxford is not a place that leaves a great deal of time for self-reflection. We should all think about asking the critical questions, even if it is only for a moment. Have you decided what the you of your late twenties is going to look like, or have you just chosen from a list of options offered to you?  Have you decided what success for you actually looks like, or do you just want to be successful, whatever that means? Do you know what you want to do, or are you just afraid of not knowing?

Antisocial Media

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Between digging the bunker in the back garden and foraging for loo roll, I’ve mostly been scrolling through Oxlove recently, becoming increasingly invested in the plights of Oxford romantics. Encouraged by the prospect of months in ‘isolation’ students are taking to the internet, “sliding into DMs” or releasing the family carrier pigeon to tell people how they really feel about them. Aside from being a startlingly British response to a global pandemic (“You mean I won’t have to see them for six months? Ample time to recover from any awkwardness? Fabulous, I can send that text then!”) I think it’s the smallest of silver linings in this difficult time, and should be nurtured rather than dismissed. 

When it comes to sending a potentially rash message, I’ll be the first to admit that I can be a little too trigger happy. A few of you may even be reading this and reminiscing on an overly-forward, potentially awkward, ‘you-weren’t-meant-to-actually-acknowledge-that-in-writing’ message you’ve received from me. If so, I would say I’m sorry but the likelihood is I’m almost certainly not. Maybe this is because I don’t like rollercoasters, but nothing else gives me the same rush of adrenaline that I get after pressing send. Nothing beats the dizzying high of hindsight when you realise the message you’ve sent, currently rattling down the airwaves, is akin to the start of your own personal disaster film. (You know, the scene where the beach goes quiet and the tide retreats, or the one with the distant, ominous rumble before the ground starts to fall away.) Perhaps I just like the drama, but I think there’s a little more to it than that. I should stress that these messages are never malevolent. They normally take the form of reckless admissions of attraction or nosy questions about unclassified situations – the messages we all want to send, but that most of us rarely do.

I’ve never been very good at following the unwritten rules of online conduct and more often than not they really irritate me. The idea that when people are ‘active’ they could be doing anything from brushing their teeth with facebook open, to chatting to other people and choosing not to prioritise you, particularly bugs me. The fact that someone can ignore your message without actually ignoring it, but you can pretty much assume that they are, though you have no right to call them out on it without coming across as petty and ridiculous, is insane. It’s the perfect crime; elegant, stylish and completely infuriating in the way it renders you utterly helpless, bound by social media etiquette. Consider too, the concept of leaving someone ‘on read’. In a modern digital age this is a devastating insult and as a result conversations often drag on painfully until one party manages to gracefully extricate themselves. Or worse, it’s used as power play – a way to assert your dominance and claim the greater degree of ambivalence in an uncertain relationship. The idea of ‘messaging first’ can be anything from a white flag, to a sign of interest and the ironic use of emojis continues to baffle me. Not to mention the fact messages are often carefully edited to be as short as they can be, ‘brief and breezy’ rather than heartfelt and sincere. At this minute more than ever I’d rather receive a long, rambling message that strikes a genuine tone, than continue this weird digital dance. 

Thankfully now, with the world turned slightly upside down, people are turning their backs on this performative interaction for something far more real. They’re defiantly messaging first and frequently, writing bravely and honestly. Yes, you should tell that person you’ve always secretly thought that they were the bee’s knees! Or query that one time that person did that thing, that could have been flirting, or could have just been the result of one too many glasses of wine – find out what it meant. Ask the questions you want to ask and say the things you want to say. It can be incredibly cathartic. It can be (in times as dull as these) an absolute thrill, bonus points if it’s someone you’ve never messaged before. There’s no relief, no matter the consequences, like finally being able to blurt out how beautiful you think someone is, or eventually asking that burning question. This is the way we should be! We’re a sociable species and whilst rejection (or 18 hours with a message left unopened though the recipient is persistently, irritatingly active) is never particularly pleasant, there’s never been a better time for it than now.

There is no lovelier thing than a random message from someone near or far, with a message of love or a subtext that smacks of bravery. Life isn’t that long, love and meaningful friendship is more than worth the risk and in adhering to the current unwritten rules we’re denying ourselves happiness. It can be scary to be vulnerable, even with our closest friends, but why not send them a message of appreciation at a time when it’s easy to feel lonely or overthink the relationships founded or furthered at Oxford.  We have so much love to give and we shouldn’t restrict it to carefully timed heart emojis or the odd drunken reveal. (I’m still waiting for my future husband to read my articles, fall madly in love with me through only my words and reach out to me – just saying.) But that said, nothing made me beam more than a friend messaging me this week out of the blue, just to say she was thinking of me. In a time of isolation we have to fight to stay connected and we should all learn from the brave people of Oxlove who are casting off the shackles of socially acceptable messaging in the pursuit of a connection. They may be shrouded in anonymity, but they are still managing to be more open and honest than the rest of us put together. Let’s change that. Let’s make a generation of brave, open people the legacy of this surreal time. 

Bread Making, Simplified

There are many different love languages, but for many people, including myself, bread is one that shouts above the rest. A good bread can fill the soul with warmth and comfort, something that seems to be needed now more than ever. In this trying time, I have taken it upon myself to fight the good fight for all bread lovers out there and present you with a solid bread recipe that can be easily recreated at home. All it takes is time, patience, and a lot of love. 

Two weeks ago, I arrived home to the United States from Oxford, into the midst of panic and hysteria about the pandemic we have all come to know and definitely not love. One of the first necessities to fly off of grocery shelves was, of course, bread. Luckily enough for me, I happened to have some yeast and flour at home, and so my path to bread making was born. I am an avid baker, and have been extremely sad while at Oxford with no access to an oven. I have never baked bread before, and it has always been explained to me as a hard process to do. That week, I made a simple white sandwich bread loaf that turned out delicious and tasty, but I hungered for something more challenging, and for more bread. 

Enter in the no-knead Dutch oven loaf. I have seen this type of bread making method, putting slowly risen dough into a Dutch oven and baking it, numerous times on various cooking shows. I was intrigued by the no-kneading aspect, as I hate the messy process of flour-covered counters and sticky dough hands. This particular recipe jumped out to me in a New York Times article as it was their most requested recipe, and so I decided to try it out. 

I made a couple of tweaks to the recipe based on recommendations by commenters. Firstly, I used active dry yeast instead of instant because that’s what I had on hand. Secondly, I proofed the bread for all rounds in the bowl, up until the moment of baking. This just made it less messy and easier to control. The process of making the bread was extremely easy, and I proofed the dough overnight for the recommended 18 hours. You will want to either set a timer or mark down when you begin proofing your bread, as overproofing can damage your carefully created gluten strands and cause the bread to collapse. 

When it came to baking time, I plopped my bread into the warm Dutch oven, covered it, and let it do its thing. The final result, after baking it uncovered for another 15 minutes, resulted in a delightfully crunchy exterior. I let the bread cool for about 15 minutes before I cut into it for a taste. The fermentation overnight resulted in a subtle sourdough  flavour reminiscent of a French-style baguette, and a chew that had a nice mouthfeel. The crust was perfectly crisp, a nice contrast to the soft interior.

This bread has since served me as a delicious toast with eggs for breakfast, and as the perfect base for an afternoon sandwich. In my opinion, fresh bread should be consumed as quickly as possible so that it retains its crunch on the outside and doesn’t become gummy on the inside. Once you taste this bread, I guarantee that it will not last on your counter for very long. 

This recipe is baker friendly for all levels of expertise, and I was shocked by how little I had to do for it to turn out perfectly. I do wish I had gotten a more even shape on the bread, as it didn’t spread on its own whilst baking as the recipe said. The amount of time it takes to create the perfect bread makes you feel as though you’re being productive, something many of us probably need during lockdown.

If you happen to have yeast and flour, try making this bread. It is hearty, warm, and a perfect complement to any meal. It’s also likely to keep you from going insane while you’re at home, and we all know we need a little something to keep ourselves grounded. Add this to your baking wheelhouse, and you’ll surely impress your friends. At least, once this is all over. For now, treat yourself. You deserve it. 

No-knead Dutch oven loaf

Ingredients:
3 cups of all purpose or bread flour, and more for dusting
1 packet of active dry yeast or instant yeast (roughly ¼ ounces if measuring by hand)
1 ¼ teaspoons of salt

Method:

  1. In a large bowl combine flour, yeast and salt. Add 1 5/8 cups of room temperature water, and stir until blended; dough will be shaggy and sticky. Cover bowl with plastic wrap. Let dough rest at least 12 hours, preferably about 18, at warm room temperature at about 70 degrees.
  2. Dough is ready when its surface is dotted with bubbles. Lightly flour a work surface and place dough on it; sprinkle it with a little more flour and fold it over on itself once or twice. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let it rest for about 15 minutes.
  3. Using just enough flour to keep the dough from sticking to the work surface or to your fingers, gently and quickly shape the dough into a ball. Put back into the bowl carefully, seam side down. Cover again and let it rise for about 2 hours. When it is ready, the dough will be more than double in size and will not readily spring back when poked with a finger.
  4. At least a half-hour before the dough is ready, heat the oven to 450 degrees. Put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (cast iron, enamel, Pyrex or ceramic) in the oven as it heats. When the dough is ready, carefully remove the pot from the oven. Slide your hand under the dough and flip it into the pot (you can also just turn the bowl over and it will likely fall right out); it may look like a mess, but that is okay. Shake pan once or twice if dough is unevenly distributed; it will straighten out as it bakes. Cover with lid and bake for 30 minutes, then remove lid and bake for another 15 to 30 minutes, until loaf is beautifully browned. Cool on a rack. Enjoy!

This recipe is based off: https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/11376-no-knead-bread

Rethinking Chocolate

When did you last eat chocolate? If you’re anything like the average Brit, your answer will likely fall within the last 48 hours. But what is the cost of our sweet tooth, and how can we make sure the chocolate we eat is ethically and sustainably produced? 

When I was young, my dad would take me to our local corner shop every Friday after school. I can’t remember exactly when this ritual started, but it lasted for most of primary school. Dad would chat to the elderly man behind the counter and I would pick two bars of chocolate off the shelf. Sometimes this would be easy – other times I would spend several minutes mulling over the options. There was only ever one rule for this Friday night trip: I had to choose two different bars, so that Dad and I could trade a square outside the shop. 

It’s a fond memory and, much to my mum’s dismay, probably explains my insatiable sweet tooth. Over the years my tastes have matured a little, and I’ll take a bar of 85% Green & Blacks over a Crunchie any day of the week. Still, my love of chocolate is still very much present. 

Thankfully I don’t feel guilty about this, safe in the knowledge that my obsession is shared by many. In fact, our infatuation with chocolate can be traced back centuries, during which we’ve romanticised, fetishised and even worshipped the cocoa bean. The Aztecs believed that cacao seeds were a gift from the heavens and were so valuable that they were used as currency. A few hundred years later in 17th century France, hot chocolate was revered by courtiers at Versailles who vouched for its power as an aphrodisiac.

This mythical status gradually fell away as technology progressed. Ever ingenious, the Victorians catalysed a seismic shift in the chocolate industry and, with mass-production and supply chain streamlining, the treat was suddenly within reach of the working class. 

Nowadays we’d be hard pressed to imagine a world without chocolate. Whether bars, blocks, slabs, squares, eggs or bunnies, we just can’t get enough. The UK occupies a healthy – or perhaps not so healthy – fourth place in global consumption rankings, hot on the heels of our European cousins in Switzerland, Germany and Ireland. To be more precise, your average Brit consumes 9.5kg of chocolate each year (for the curious, this equates to 530 Freddos, or 212 bars of Dairy Milk). It’s no wonder our doctors and dentists are under strain. More concerning however is that our chocolatey love affair isn’t just clogging our arteries and rotting our teeth – it’s destroying the planet. 

If the industry fails to change, we’re at risk of damaging the planet beyond repair. That’s according to a 2015 study published in the journal Food Research International, which looked at the environmental impacts of chocolate production. The sheer scale of the problem may come as a surprise to many. In my bid to help the planet I stopped eating meat three years ago, traded cow’s milk for an oat-based substitute, and avoid purchasing foods with a disproportionate carbon footprint. Put simply, I thought I’d all but nailed the ‘woke millennial’ trifecta. But this was not the case.

The report analysed the damage wrought by ingredients, manufacturing and packaging. Food Research International found that in Britain alone the chocolate industry produces the equivalent of more than 2 million metric tons of carbon dioxide each year – roughly equal to that produced by a city the size of Belfast. Chocolate’s raw materials – sugar, palm oil and packaging components – are drivers of deforestation, and their farming is incredibly difficult for governments to regulate. 

Dig a little deeper and it becomes clear that the impact of cocoa farming extends far beyond carbon footprint. Just as the consequences of fast-fashion are felt primarily by sweatshop workers, the brunt of cheap chocolate production is borne by some of the poorest communities around the world. Cocoa farmers rely heavily on questionable employment practices and, despite claims from industry giants, child labor still plagues farms in Western Africa. Between 2013 and 2014, an estimated 2 million children were thought to be working in the cocoa trade in Ghana and Ivory Coast alone. 

‘But I only buy fair-trade!’ you may exclaim. While in theory buying fair-trade is a sensible move, in practice it has become clear that such labels carry little weight. Chocolate with certifications from Fair Trade and the Rainforest Alliance may claim to respect the rights and needs of workers, but those certifications rarely prove to be entirely free from exploitative labour practices. This is even more clear as most fair-trade inspections do not happen regularly – giving farm owners plenty of time to hide their unethical practices. Panorama revealed that in September 2009 seven cocoa farms were suspended in Ghana due to evidence of child labour. Further investigation showed that both Cadbury and Divine were supplied by these growers. Even aside from these practices, the economic downsides of fair-trade are numerous, with minimum price guidelines both limiting income for growers and discouraging output of higher quality cocoa. 

Many of these problems have been acknowledged by industry leaders and policymakers who are supposedly working hard to reduce the human and environmental costs of chocolate production. EU proposals to promote better land and resource management in target countries, as well as supporting research on sustainable farming practices, go some way to address key issues. However, The Guardian first reported on such plans in early 2018 and we’re yet to see any tangible benefits from these plans. Thankfully, chocolate companies have largely been receptive to proposed changes, showing there is genuine interest in improving business practices. In line with their sustainability goals, Nestlé now monitors ‘100% of [their] palm oil supply chain using satellite technology’ and in 2018 they joined the High Carbon Stock Approach Steering Group to further improve conduct. Change is coming, but it’s going to take time. 

To truly improve the industry will require effort from both consumers and corporations. On a personal level we have the power to turn the industry on its head, and with Easter just around the corner it’s more important than ever that we shop responsibly. Easter chocolate sales make up 10% of Britain’s annual spending on chocolate with a staggering 80 million eggs sold each year. Whilst tempting, these eggs are among the key culprits when it comes to carbon emissions. Cheap milk chocolate married with excessive packaging makes for a killer combination. The solution is simple: steer clear of eggs and opt for bars instead. Chances are the product will taste nicer, and you’ll do your bit to reduce the 80 million tons of food packaging we generate each year. 

For those prepared to spend a little more, there’s no shortage of companies producing delicious and ethically sourced chocolate. Original Beans’ award-winning range can be enjoyed in full knowledge that you’re contributing to a good cause. Founded in 2008, the company protects rainforests around the world, planting a new tree for every bar sold. Better still, you can enter your unique tracking code on their website to follow the progress of each new sapling. Furthermore, Original Beans are increasingly supplying independent chocolate manufacturers such as Edinburgh based Ocelot who recognise the growing demand for high-quality, environmentally friendly cocoa – and from black cherry to blood orange, their chocolate is a far more sensible (and tastier) option than offerings from Cadbury and Nestlé. 

As it stands, the coming months and years will be crucial for the chocolate industry. The growing focus on sustainable and ethical trade is already making waves across the food and drink industry. From alternative milk to meat substitutes, we have shown that we’re genuinely passionate about reducing our carbon footprint. Coupled with an increasing demand for premium-quality products, I suspect we will see chocolate production follow a similar trajectory to the coffee industry. The specialty coffee market has exploded over the last decade and its growth shows few signs of slowing – traceability and single origin may sound like buzzwords, but for millions of customers they play a key role when buying beans.

Interestingly, coffee roasters are also experimenting with direct-trade models whereby working relationships are established between roaster and farmer, doing away with brokers. If smaller chocolate companies succeed in establishing similar business models, the results will be positive for growers, manufacturers and consumers. These changes aren’t going to happen overnight of course, and many of the underlying problems will require a monumental effort to resolve. That manufacturers and consumers are willing to engage with ethical and environmental debates are promising to say the least, and with specialty cocoa already predicted to be one of the fastest-growing market areas in Europe, the future looks bright. But to assume that as consumers we can sit back and wait for issues to be solved by others is naive, and with Easter fast approaching it’s the perfect time to reflect on our purchasing habits. I’m not going to stop buying chocolate for friends and family, but I will certainly focus on shopping small, shopping sensibly and spending just a little bit more money on higher quality, more sustainable treats.

The 2020 NFL Draft: who should we be looking out for?

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The 2020 NFL Draft will be without the pageantry normally expected of the event. It was scheduled to take place in Las Vegas to coincide with the Raiders’ arrival in the city but, instead, it will take place remotely. This move should come as no surprise following the NFL’s decision to ban all in-person meetings between teams and players in the lead-up to the draft due to Coronavirus. It will be interesting to see how this affects the draft process, as teams won’t be able to get up close to any of the prospects they are evaluating. Perhaps certain prospects will fall down in the draft order, as they will not have had the chance to smooth out any injuries or off-field concerns with potential suitors.

Quarterbacks: Reigning Heisman trophy winner Joe Burrow is almost certain to be selected first overall by the Cincinnati Bengals, after a meteoric rise over the past 12 months. This time last year, Burrow would likely have gone undrafted if he had chosen to declare for the NFL draft. His college football career up to that point had been extremely disappointing: after failing to win the starting quarterback job at Ohio State three seasons in a row he transferred to LSU and had a disappointing first season. However, since LSU implemented a new offensive system last spring, Burrow has been unstoppable. He led LSU to a national championship, with the team going undefeated and beating five of the top-10 ranked college football teams in what was arguably the greatest college football season by a quarterback of all time. Having grown up a stone’s throw away from Cincinnati, it will be truly shocking if the Bengals don’t select him.

A victim of Burrow’s ascendance is Tua Tagovailoa. Tagovailoa has had an illustrious college career, and in his first season, he came off the bench in the national championship game as a freshman to lead a comeback victory. He went on to repeat this feat, winning a second national championship the following season as the starting quarterback. However, in 2019 he suffered a dislocated hip and posterior wall fracture from a brutal sack, thereby missing large parts of the season. There are lingering question marks over the long-term impact of this injury which have not been resolved, with coronavirus preventing teams from conducting medical examinations on Tagovailoa. With both Miami and the Chargers on the hunt for a quarterback, one of these teams will likely move in and grab him in a blockbuster trade, with the other taking Justin Herbert as a consolation prize. Herbert is a typical quarterback at 6’6”, with all the physical attributes needed to play in the NFL. He impressed at the Senior Bowl and has high potential, but his football IQ and tendency for misthrows may hold him back in the NFL.

Wide Receivers: The 2020 wide receiver class is being hailed as one of the best of all time and is expected that over ten will be selected in the first two rounds of the draft. Spear-heading this class are Alabama duo Jerry Jeudy and Henry Ruggs III. Jeudy is an extremely polished prospect with crisp route running and excellent ability to gain yards after the catch, whilst Ruggs offers truly electric speed, having recorded a 4.27 second 40-yard dash at this year’s combine. Ruggs’ skillset may not translate well to being a number one receiver in the NFL, but the attention he would demand as a secondary threat, and the dimension his pace could add to an offence, means he is certain to command a first round pick. Ceedee Lamb is also projected to go high. Whilst he may not have the blistering pace of Ruggs, his excellent ball handling skills and ability to win 50/50 match-ups potentially make him a more viable number one receiver in the NFL.

Tackles: It is expected that four elite tackle prospects will be selected in the first round, although it is difficult to predict the order they will be selected in. How General Managers rank them will be based on the classic draft dilemma: whether to draft sure-fire prospects or draft for potential. Jedrick Wills is perhaps the best overall prospect: he is polished in both pass-protection and run-blocking. However, teams may be put off by the fact he played right-tackle at college level. Andrew Thomas is a powerful run-blocker and would be an attractive prospect for teams running power-scheme offences, but his pass protection will need development. Tristan Wirfs, although less polished than the previous two prospects, offers tremendous upside due to his mobility and will likely attract attention from zone-scheme teams. Mekhi Becton’s skills as a tackle are a cut below the other three prospects, but his unique physical stature (6’7”, 369 lbs) means that he has the highest potential of the bunch. Coaches who believe they can teach Becton the skills to succeed at the next level may see him as a potential Hall of Famer.

Defence: Defensively, this year’s draft is thin on the ground compared to previous years, although Ohio State’s Chase Young is on par with any of the great edge rushing prospects to enter the NFL over the past 5 years. He matches elite physical attributes with a unique polish as a pass rusher. Young’s varied skillset means that teams will expect him to be an elite NFL pass rusher from the first day he sets foot on their training field and it is highly likely he is selected in the first three picks of the draft. Jeffrey Okudah offers similar promise as a cornerback and should be selected in the top 5. Moreover, Isaiah Simmons is a unique prospect and could be selected anywhere in the top half of the first round. Simmons’ athleticism is unrivalled; his 40-yard-dash time of 4.39 seconds at the combine was faster than all but six receivers, despite the fact that he weighed in at 238 lbs. At Clemson he was equally adept at rushing the quarterback, disrupting the run, or dropping into coverage. Coaches seeking to add complexity to their defensive schemes will love him as a prospect.

Overall, this year’s draft promises spark, and I would expect some blockbuster trades early on in the first round, as teams scramble to secure their franchise quarterback. How teams rank the tackles is likely to be extremely influential in the first round. It will be particularly interesting to see where this impressive class of wide-receivers get selected. A surplus of talent could perhaps mean they fall lower in the draft than many expect.

The Virtual Museum: Can technology transform the gallery space?

It makes sense that museums are stuck in the past. Having spent their lives surrounded by antiquities, we can forgive curators for not being savvy with the latest technologies. Many of the most prominent museums in the world have not fundamentally changed over the past century, except for certain acquisitions and design tweaks. Entering the Ashmolean or the British Museum today, you still walk through colonnaded halls with glass cabinets, peering at the little written descriptions of the artefacts as you go.

However, developments in Virtual Reality and Augmented Reality technology provide curators with an opportunity to revolutionise our relationship with the artefacts of the past. Imagine, upon entering the Natural History Museum, you raise your phone camera and the blue whale skeleton hanging from the ceiling comes to life, swimming through the air above your head. Or upon entering a room of Roman sculptures in the British Museum, you can put on a VR headset and be transported to a street in Ancient Rome, where you can appreciate the statues in their original context. The potential of AR and VR in museums is to bring the past to life.

Currently, these technologies exist in museums only as small gimmicks for landmark exhibitions or virtual tours online. The British Museum’s “virtual tour” is limited to a wander around its foyer, while the Ashmolean tour consists of low-resolution three-second videos of various galleries.

Some museums have been more creative: visitors to the Modigliani retrospective at the Tate Modern could enter his studio as it was in the 1910s through a VR headset, while the Louvre took people Beyond the Glass of the Mona Lisa for a landmark exhibition commemorating 500 years since the death of Leonardo da Vinci. Yet none of these museums have fully exploited the potential of VR and AR by integrating the technology into their galleries in a meaningful way.

Firstly, we need to clarify what is meant by VR and AR. VR, or Virtual Reality, is a simulated virtual world, experienced through headsets such as the Oculus Rift. Curators might protest that this technology, by its very nature, is against what museums are all about as it removes people from the artefacts that museums exist to showcase. However, if you come to museums to immerse yourself in the past, Virtual Reality has the potential to actually take you there. As opposed to simply looking at a model of prehistoric huts, it is far more engaging to put on a headset and enter one. VR should not replace the objects on display but rather place them in their historical context.

AR, or Augmented Reality, involves projecting visuals onto a real-world background; think Snapchat filters or Pokémon Go. Only fragments of the past survive in the present day, but AR could fill in these gaps. Take, for example, the magnificent contents of the Sutton Hoo ship-burial, displayed in the British Museum, which has been eroded from centuries spent underground. What if, through AR, you could see the missing pieces of the famous Sutton Hoo helmet and shield slotting back into place, allowing visitors to appreciate the grandeur of Anglo-Saxon armour in its original condition? Phil Stewart, Creative Director of the company which modelled Modigliani’s studio for the Tate said, “Understanding art is about understanding the painter and the paintings, and also the historical and social context.” Bringing this technology into museums would not mean relegating the importance of the artefacts themselves to a secondary role but would, in fact, serve to enhance the viewing experience; rendering the displays within a virtually reconstructed historical context and allowing the opportunity to view them in their original condition.

New technologies also have the potential to bring these relics of our cultural heritage outside of their cabinets, beyond the walls of the museums themselves, and into our classrooms and our homes.

Google Arts and Culture is an online platform developed in association with museums and heritage sites across the planet. When it first came online in 2011, it was essentially an archive of high-quality photos of some of the world’s greatest artworks and historical artefacts. Since then it has developed an array of technologically sophisticated features that allow people to interact with these objects from their home. The outbreak of the coronavirus may have temporarily closed museums, but you can still walk through the halls of the Louvre, the Rijksmuseum and the MET from the comfort of your couch on the Google Arts and Culture app. The “Art Selfie” feature uses facial recognition to find a portrait that resembles you, while “Art Projector” brings masterpieces into your home through AR. Through “Pocket Gallery” I could enter the Cauvet Cave in France, home to figurative cave paintings that date back 36,000 years, which have been sealed off from the public since 1994 for preservation. At a moment when we cannot go to museums, museums can nevertheless come to us.

With the features developed by Google Arts and Culture, artefacts and artworks can become readily accessible to students who might not otherwise have had the opportunity to visit these museums. Likewise, when diplomatic deadlock prevents objects seized by colonial powers returning home, these platforms can allow people in post-colonial countries to engage with their cultural heritage without having to journey to the British Museum – although this virtual engagement is, of course, no substitute for the return of the artefacts.

A more recent development, pioneered by The Kremer Collection, is even more revolutionary. The collection consists of 70 works by Dutch Masters, acquired by George and Ilone Kremer since 1996 including masterpieces by Rembrandt. While the artworks are loaned to museums across the world, they were finally brought together and housed in a single space for the first time in October 2017: the virtual Kremer Museum. Designed by architect John van Lierop, the space is only accessible through a Virtual Reality headset, making it one of the world’s first exclusively virtual museums.

It is worth emphasising the value of interacting with artworks and artefacts in person. Nothing compares to walking beneath a statue of an Egyptian pharaoh and being astounded by its grand scale or squinting to see the texture of Van Gogh’s brushstrokes on a canvas. The value of these objects is in their authenticity. They are relics of lost societies, sculpted and painted by people who are long since dead. No matter how accurate the virtual reproductions of the paintings in the Kremer Museum are, they were still not painted by Rembrandt’s hand.

The question is not whether we should replace our museums with virtual galleries but how we can enhance the museum experience with this new technology. Virtual Reality and Augmented Reality have the potential to transform our relationship with the past, making ancient artefacts accessible and placing them in their original historical context. Museum curators must employ the technology of the future to breathe life into the past.

An Introduction to K-dramas

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On the 9th of February 2020, history was made at the Oscars when Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite became the first ever non-English film to win ‘Best Picture’. However, that wasn’t the only award Parasite took home: the film went on to receive awards for ‘Best Director’, ‘Best International Feature Film’ and ‘Best Original Screenplay’, an unprecedented feat. As a result, more and more people find themselves curious about the South Korean film and television industry, with special attention being paid to K-dramas (or Korean television series), which have attained fan followings all over the world. Given the popularity of Parasite, here are four K-dramas (all available on Netflix) that should definitely be on your “must watch” list.  

MR SUNSHINE 

Don’t be deceived by the name. You need only to watch the first episode to discover that this series’ preoccupations are anything but sunny. Set in the late 19th century, the series focuses on the events leading up to the Japanese occupation of Korea and the gradual dissolution of the Joseon dynasty, which precipitated drastic social change. At the centre of these chaotic times are Choi Yoo-jin/Eugene Choi (Lee Byung-hun) and Go Ae-sin (Kim Tae-ri), whose lives are intricately connected. Eugune Choi is a Joseon man who fled to the US as a child and, having grown up now, is a part of the US Marines. He returns to Joseon as part of the Korean expedition in 1871, accompanying an American delegation for a simple mission. However, this one mission spirals out of control when he becomes increasingly involved in the secret life of a Joseon noblewoman and, soon, past traumas from his childhood resurface. 

One of the main reasons I enjoyed Mr Sunshine was because of its portrayal of women. Usually the women in K-dramas don’t have much agency but this show changed that and many other K-dramas have followed suit. Go Ae-sin, for example, is frustrated at how, being a part of the aristocracy, she can’t help her fellow countrymen against the growing presence of foreign forces. She decides to fight her helplessness by secretly taking lessons in marksmanship, allowing her to become an asset to the independence fighters. As such a game-changing example of the genre, Mr Sunshine would make for an excellent introduction into K-dramas; you might even recognise Lee Jeong-eun, the housekeeper in Parasite, who plays a supporting role.

Lee Byung-hun in Mr Sunshine

SKY CASTLE

If you’re in search of a thriller that keeps you on the edge of your seat, look no further than SKY Castle. SKY Castle focuses on the academic pressure that high school students face in South Korea when applying to universities, as well as the rat race that is ‘elite’ society. The name of the series is derived from the names of the most competitive universities in South Korea: Seoul National University, Korea University and Yonsei University. 

What I love about this series is that they focus on the impact mothers can have on their children. The actors shine through in their roles, especially Kim Seo-hyung, who plays the elusive and mysterious Kim Joo-young, charged with preparing rich, competent students for university entrance exams. Han Seo-jin (Yum Jung-ah) is an obsessive, perfectionist mother who seeks out Kim Joo-young to help her daughter get into SNU’s medical school. However, a series of strange events start to occur, affecting Han Seo-jin’s neighbours, No Seung-hye, Jin Jin-hee and Lee Soo-im. No Seung-hye (Yoon Se-ah) loves her children very much and wishes to put their well-being first, but is pressured into pushing her children to their limits by her husband. Likewise, Jin Jin-hee (Oh Na-ra) wants the best for her child but doesn’t always know what to do and so is easily influenced by others, and usually bound to follow Han Seo-jin’s example. Lee Soo-im (Lee Tae-ran) is a stepmother, but she too cares about her child very much. She doesn’t understand the frenzied concern of the other mothers around her, much to the distaste of Han Seo-jin. Suffice to say, the complex and multi-layered narrative of this drama led to its success and earned it a place as the highest rated drama in Korean cable television history.

A promotional poster for Sky Castle

ROMANCE IS A BONUS BOOK

What I don’t like about other K-dramas is that they sometimes go a little too ‘over the top’ and seem exaggerated. However, Romance is a Bonus Book is an exception – it’s chill, casual, feel-good watching, and well suited to quarantine watching. This drama centers on Kang Dan-i (Lee Na-young), a single mother and divorcee who is struggling to re-enter the workforce after having taken some time off to raise her child. Despite the fact that she is very experienced in her field and had previously held a high position, her extended hiatus, and the fact that she’s a single mother, discourages employers from taking her on. Desperate for a job, Dan-i destroys evidence of her many qualifications in order to be eligible for a job aimed at high school graduates. The job is at a publishing company that is partially owned by her childhood friend, Cha Eun-ho (Lee Jong-seok), who is much surprised by Dan-i’s entrance to the workplace. Romance ensues. 

This drama sheds a light on the particular difficulties working women face and, of course, seeing a show take an active role in encouraging social awareness is always refreshing. Also, Kang Dan-i is older than Cha Eun-ho in the show and it’s interesting to explore why it is still frowned upon for older women to date younger men in Korean society. The friendship between these two characters that blossoms into love is beautiful to watch and is wonderfully complemented by the mellow soundtrack, featuring K-indie bands like Jannabi and The Black Skirts.

The two leads in Romance is a Bonus Book

ONE SPRING NIGHT

Last but not least there is One Spring Night. Again, this K-drama is unlike other romantic dramas in that it is very subtle and low-key, yet heartwarming. In other words, it offers us a depiction of real life with real people and real problems. At the centre of it is Lee Jeong-in (Han Ji-min), a librarian who is unsatisfied with her four year long loveless relationship with her boyfriend, and Yu Ji-ho (Jung Hae-in), a pharmacist and single father, who meet one day and start to develop feelings for each other. One Spring Night explores the ‘grey area’ a lot of couples find themselves in after being with each other for a long time and slowly starting to recognise that the feelings they once held for each other are no longer there. Lee Jeong-in doesn’t love her boyfriend but still feels an obligation towards him, which prevents her from pursuing a relationship with Yu Ji-ho. Add to that the social stigma around single fathers in Korean society and we find ourselves immersed in the details of a very complex set of relationships.  

The beauty of One Spring Night lies in the incredible acting on display. The English language soundtrack too (featuring Carla Bruni’s Spring Waltz) adds a unique touch to the show. Unfortunately, because One Spring Night is not a conventional K-drama filled with slapstick comedy and bolstered by a soundtrack featuring big names, the show didn’t received much attention, but I assure you that it is well worth the watch. 

Female friendship in One Spring Night