Recipes, guides and kitchen know-how. Mostly useful, occasionally silly.
The Blackout Menu: Three Days, No Power, and How to Still Get a Cuppa
The government's Be Ready campaign asks every home to keep three days of water and no-cook food. Here's the actual menu, the water maths, and how to get a cuppa with no kettle.
The government wants every home in Britain to survive three days on its own.
No power. No water. No shops.
So we did what any sensible family would do, and turned the cupboard under the stairs into a bunker.
Aaron laminated the checklist. Erin claimed the throne. Tyson ate the teabags.
It turns out you don't need a nuclear shelter. You need a tin opener, some water and a plan for the tea.
So here it is. Three days of proper meals with no hob, how much water you actually need, and how to get a brew with no kettle.
We've been through it so you don't have to. Mostly in the dark.
What the government is actually asking
On 22 October 2026 the Cabinet Office launched Be Ready, a three-year campaign asking every household to cope for three days if the power, water or shops stop working.
The reasons given are the boring, likely ones: storms, floods and cyber attacks.
War gets a mention too. Quietly, from the back of the room.
The Defence Secretary's advice was to be "alert but not alarmed."
Olly is neither. Olly is hungry.
The idea is simple. If most of us can look after ourselves for 72 hours, the emergency services can get to the people who can't.
The UK is a bit late to the party. The EU told its 450 million citizens to keep a 72-hour kit back in March 2025, and France, Ireland and the Netherlands already do three days.
And we need the nudge. In the government's own research, only 13% of people said their household was well or fully prepared.
The other 87% have a lighter that doesn't work and a tin of something with no label.
The official advice is also clear on one thing: don't panic buy. Check what you've got, then add a few bits to each normal shop.
Leave some toilet roll for the rest of us. We've all seen how that ends.
When the lights go out
Most power cuts are over in a few hours.
So the first hour is about staying calm, safe and in the know.
Eesha has already written the test.
The first hour, in order
- Ring 105. It's the free power cut line that puts you through to your local network operator, whoever your supplier is. National Grid found 84% of us have never heard of it. Save it in your phone now. Eesha will be testing you on it.
- Check if it's just you. If next door's lights are on and yours aren't, check the trip switch before you ring anyone. Saves a very awkward phone call.
- Reach for a torch, not candles. If you do light candles, keep them in holders on heat-proof surfaces and never leave them burning in an empty room.
- Keep the fridge and freezer shut. More on that below. Some of us need telling twice.
- Turn on the radio. A wind-up or battery FM radio is on the official list for a reason. Write your local station's frequency on it. Then wind it. Then wind it some more. It's very good for the arms.
- Save your phone. Dim the screen, close the apps and keep the power bank for when you actually need it. This is not the moment for the group chat.
- Knock next door. Especially if it's someone older or living alone. Take a torch. Turning up in the dark is how ghost stories start.
Your fridge and freezer
A closed fridge stays cold for about 4 hours. A full freezer holds for about 48 hours, a half-full one about 24.
Every peek lets the cold out, so decide what you want before you open the door. Then shut it fast.
It's the one time in his life Aaron gets to tell everyone to chill.
Eat in the right order
| When | Eat from | Why |
|---|---|---|
| First 4 hours | The fridge | It warms up first, so the fresh stuff goes first |
| Day 1 to 2 | The freezer, as things thaw | A full freezer buys you time, but anything that's thawed needs eating, not refreezing |
| Day 2 to 3 | The cupboard | The tins were always the backup, not the starter |
Two tricks if the freezer isn't full: huddle the packets into a tight igloo, and sit anything raw on a tray so drips can't reach the rest.
If in doubt, throw it out. A dodgy chicken thigh is not worth three days of a power cut and a very busy bathroom.
Water first
Water is the one people get wrong. The official guide is 3 litres per person, per day, just for drinking.
That's 9 litres each for three days. 36 litres for a family of four, before anyone's washed a fork.
Ayden worked it out in his head. Then again, out loud, for everyone. Twice.
The long-life essentials list
Keep extra water for washing and hygiene, and don't forget the dogs. Tyson drinks like he's training for something.
For the food, the rule is simple: long shelf life, no fridge, no cooking, and things you'd actually eat on a normal Tuesday.
Nobody in history has been pleased to find a tin of prunes in a crisis.
| Item | Our suggestion per person, 3 days | Why it earns its place |
|---|---|---|
| Bottled water | 9 litres to drink, plus extra for washing | Taps can stop too. Keep it cool and dark, like Olly's wardrobe |
| Tinned fish | 3 small tins | Protein straight from the tin. Already packed, like the sardines |
| Tinned meat | 2 small tins | The closest thing to a proper dinner |
| Beans and pulses | 3 tins | Filling, cheap and already cooked. Erin's, obviously |
| Veg and potatoes | 3 tins | Tinned potatoes are cooked, so a salad is two minutes away |
| Fruit in juice | 2 tins | Pudding, and the juice is a drink in a pinch |
| Oats, crackers or oatcakes | 1 pack | The carbs that need no toaster |
| Nuts, seeds and dried fruit | 1 large bag | Energy that fits in a pocket |
| Peanut butter | 1 jar | Calories per spoonful that can't be beaten. Or spread |
| UHT milk, small cartons | 3 x 200ml | Small, so you finish each one before it turns |
| Sachets: salt, pepper, mayo, sauces | A handful | The difference between surviving and enjoying it |
| Marshmallows | By royal decree | Not on the government list. Erin has written to them |
And the kit that makes the food usable:
- A manual tin opener. Not every tin has a ring pull, and the electric one is now an ornament. Hide it from Tyson.
- A sharp knife, a chopping board, a bowl and a fork per person.
- Wet wipes and hand sanitiser, because washing up is off. Every cloud.
On dates: best before is about quality, use by is about safety. Food past its best before is generally fine to eat. Never eat anything past its use by. A tin that's bulging, rusty or leaking goes in the bin regardless. It's not ageing well. Neither are we.
One tin, one sitting. With no fridge, an opened tin is fresh food on a timer. Buy small tins so nothing hangs around.
The Blackout Menu
Every dish here uses only the list above, needs nothing but a tin opener, a knife and a bowl, and is ready in under ten minutes.
The tins are already cooked. You're just introducing them to each other.
Three days, no hob, no shame
| Breakfast | Lunch | Dinner | |
|---|---|---|---|
| Day 1 | Fridge clear-out | Fridge clear-out, part two | Freezer leftovers, as they thaw |
| Day 2 | Bircher-ish oats | Tuna and chickpea smash | Blackout Niçoise |
| Day 3 | Peanut butter oatcakes with tinned peaches | Coronation chickpeas | Ham and three-bean salad, cold rice pudding to finish |
Bircher-ish oats. Stir a mug of oats into a small carton of UHT milk with a handful of dried fruit. Leave for 15 minutes. It isn't a croissant. But it is breakfast.
Tuna and chickpea smash. Drain a small tin of tuna and half a tin of chickpeas. Mash with a fork, a mayo sachet, salt and pepper. Pile onto crackers. Isaac had seconds before anyone noticed there were seconds.
Blackout Niçoise. Slice a drained tin of new potatoes. Add drained green beans and a tin of tuna or sardines. Dress with a sachet of mayo and plenty of pepper. Posh enough for candlelight. We mean torchlight.
Coronation chickpeas. Drain chickpeas, add a mayo sachet, a pinch of curry powder if you have it, and a handful of sultanas. Eat on oatcakes or straight from the bowl. Erin says it's fit for a princess. She would know.
Ham and three-bean salad. Drain a tin of three-bean mix and a tin of sweetcorn, dice in a small tin of ham. Season hard. Follow with tinned rice pudding, eaten cold, which is honestly how it tastes best. Aaron disagrees. Aaron is wrong.
Snacks between: nuts, dried fruit and the occasional spoon of peanut butter straight from the jar. Nobody's watching. The lights are off.
And yes, cold baked beans are allowed.
Erin would like it on record that she was eating them cold long before it was a national emergency.
The cuppa problem
Here's the national crisis nobody's planning for: the kettle is electric, and the official food list is entirely no-cook.
Three days without a brew is how civilisations fall.
Luckily, there's a pressing solution.
Coffee: cold brew, no power needed
Cold brew isn't a hipster thing in a blackout. It's just coffee that doesn't need heat.
- Tip a standard 227g bag of coarse ground coffee into a 1 litre cafetiere.
- Add about 750ml of room-temperature bottled water and stir.
- Stir again after 10 minutes, when the grounds float up into a raft.
- Put the lid on, plunger up, and leave it for up to 24 hours.
- Plunge, then top up each cup roughly half and half with water.
That's a concentrate, so one pot makes well over a litre of coffee. Drink it the same day you plunge it, and count the water in your daily allowance. Method adapted from America's Test Kitchen.
Grounds for optimism, at least.
Tea: boil it safely
Please don't leave tea bags steeping in a jug on the windowsill. Long, warm, room-temperature brewing is exactly what bacteria enjoy.
A steep learning curve nobody needs.
- Gas hob? Many can be lit with a long match when the electric ignition is down. Check your manual now, not in the dark.
- Camping stove? Outside only, in the open air. Never in the kitchen, never in the garage.
- Then use the cafetiere as a teapot. Loose tea or bags, boiling water, four minutes, plunge. One boil, a pot for the whole household, less gas used.
Whitened with a small carton of UHT, it's a proper cup.
Assuming Tyson has left you any teabags.
Rotate, don't hoard
A three-day cupboard only works if it's still edible when you need it.
- New tins go to the back, old tins come forward and get eaten in normal weeks. First in, first out. Like Erin at the biscuit tin.
- Check the water's best before date when the clocks change. Twice a year, easy to remember.
- Keep everything on one shelf or in one box, so nobody's hunting for the tin opener by phone torch. Check Tyson's bed first.
- Got more than you need? The government suggests passing spare supplies to people who can't afford a kit. A food bank will happily take your rotation.
That's it. No nuclear shelter, no gas mask, no 40 tins of luncheon meat.
Just three days of food you like, a decent amount of water, and a cafetiere that's suddenly the most important thing in the house.
Aaron is re-laminating the checklist. Nobody asked him to. Everybody knew he would.
Did you spot him?
Scroll back up and check the windows.
That shaggy shape watching all along? Not a looter. A Doodle. Albie, Aaron and Eesha's giant one.
He'd heard there were marshmallows.
Now go and cook something.
Unless the power's off. Then go and open something.
