Some days the batteries are fine.
Some days they aren’t.
You don’t get a warning. You just notice the number is lower than it should be and suddenly cooking feels like a negotiation.
When we moved here I thought cooking was solved. Gas hob. Spain. Sorted.
That was naive.
Cooking isn’t heat. It’s timing, water, cleanup, storage, and how much power you burn without noticing. Fridges pretending to be harmless. Ovens lying to your face. Kettles doing that thing where everything else dips when they click on.
I didn’t redesign the kitchen. I just stopped cooking like a normal person.
I stopped cooking when I was hungry
That was the first change.
Hungry cooking leads to bad decisions. Electric oven decisions. Multiple pans. Rushed washing up. Opening the fridge six times like it owes you something.
Now I cook when conditions are right.
Sun up. Batteries calm. Gas not suspiciously light. Water tank still sounding hollow when you knock it.
That sounds dramatic. It isn’t. It’s just practical.
What actually gets used
Solar oven first.
I laughed at it. Everyone does.
But in summer it works. Slowly. Painfully slowly. Rice, lentils, veg. You put food in, forget about it, come back later and it’s done whether you cared or not.
No power. No gas. No noise. The best thing about it is what it doesn’t demand from the system.
Rocket stove next.
For when you want heat now and don’t want to burn gas. Twigs. Prunings. Stuff you’d trip over anyway. It’s fast and slightly aggressive, which I appreciate.
Thermal cooking after that.
Boil something once, wrap it up, walk away. It keeps cooking without asking anything else from you. It’s boring food, but boring in a reliable way.
Reliable matters.
What I mostly stopped using
The electric oven.
It looks innocent. It isn’t.
It pulls hard, even when the solar is good. Everything else feels it. Lights twitch. Fans hesitate. You can almost hear the inverter sigh.
Air fryers too. Same story. “Efficient” in houses that aren’t counting every decision.
Food had to change as well
You can’t cook like this and still rely on the fridge for everything.
Some things don’t need chilling. Some things last longer if you stop opening the door every time you’re bored. Some things are better eaten quickly instead of “saved”.
Root veg. Eggs. Tins. Dry stuff. Fermented things I didn’t plan on liking.
Less cold storage means less background anxiety. You don’t notice it at first, but it changes how the day feels.
Water turned out to be the real issue
Heat is easy.
Cleaning up isn’t.
I cook with washing up in mind now. One pot. Reusing water. Letting things soak instead of attacking them. Cooking outside so grease doesn’t end up arguing with the sink system.
You don’t think about this in a normal kitchen. Out here, every litre has history.
What works, if anything works
Nothing on its own.
It’s layers.
Sun when it shows up.
Gas when it doesn’t.
Fire when you’re fed up.
Thermal cooking when patience is cheaper than fuel.
Some days dinner is basic because the systems are tired. I’ve stopped seeing that as failure.
The food’s better, weirdly. Slower. Less packaged. Less rushed. More connected to whatever the day actually was.
I didn’t plan that.
It’s just what happens when electricity stops being automatic.
Tomorrow I might use the oven again.
Or I might not.
Depends what the sky decides.