A Film, a simple life and Asparagus

I clear up after dinner to the music from Jurassic Park which the youngest requested, she skips off while google plays the next track and my eyes suddenly fill with tears as the main theme from The Last of The Mohicans comes on.  I’ve watched this film many times, glued to the epic scenes, one of those first movies that really connected with me as a child, after the fantasy phase.  I love the beauty of this film, the story, the vast untamed landscapes, the music and the emotionally and physically exhausting journey of the last members of the tribe of the Mohicans. 

A walk to clear the head

The film deals with the often harrowing and violent interaction between Native Americans and the French and British (and Irish) settlers but also some poignant and tender relationships between them and a matchless passionate, romantic love scene accompanied with emotive strings, listen here.  There is a feeling of the end of an era, there is sorrow in the unjust discrimination of the tribes losing their land and way of life and ultimately being ruthlessly wiped out. It’s disturbing that over 250 years later this kind of clearing of people can still happen. 

We SHARE the same sky, the Northern Lights this week

I blink back the tears and get the children ready for bed but the haunting melody stays with me; a reminder of the struggles of people who have gone before us.  Even so I lament for a simpler time; when things were more straightforward and honest.  We’d have our own little plot of land, self sufficient with some animals maybe, we’d be more connected to the land.  Also in my head, I’m walking around with a wicker basket, floaty floral dress, the children playing in the meadow beyond and us enjoying our home brewed beer. 

Beautiful mature trees in May Glory

May does weird things with your head, all this sunshine and activity you forget about cold, dark wild winter days with no food and no heat, what about no citrus or bananas or red wine?!  Maybe there wasn’t really was a simpler time, the rose tint makes it hard to focus, the anxiety of the daily struggle for food, hard labour and the threat of sickness of violence would complicate things surely?  But there’s a romanticism with that time, before the industrial revolution, before we all had the world in our pocket and infinite information at our fingertips.  Ironically, before I could sit in my house and type this on a machine that magically can send it out to all of you!

Whlewheat brown sugar sponge, irish hazelnut dacquoise, woodruff cream & rhubarb puree

I think this yearning for the past ultimately comes from my desire for a better food system.  Before capitalist growth became the goal, before we got too ahead of ourselves, when chemical pesticide was discovered and very quickly widely used without thought of consequence.  In ‘Leftovers’ Eleanor Barnett talks about the ecologist Rachel Carson and her warnings in her book Silent Spring, published in 1962. 

My favourite, Hawthorn blossom, also known as white thorn or May Thorn/tree

‘Carson wrote, ‘Historians of the future will surely wonder, how seemingly intelligent beings seek to control a few unwanted species by a method that contaminated the entire environment and brought the threat of disease and death even to their own kind'.

Carson warned that we were blithely infecting the entire food system with harmful substances that could threaten our genetics, health and survival. Even more scandalously, the losses caused by natural pests were not harming food supplies on a national scale, only the profits of producers.’

crystallising rose petals

It’s all wrong, we rushed on too far, obsessed with quick fixes and our supposed superior intelligence but here I am, in my little corner of this beautiful but scary world trying to do my bit to get people thinking differently about their food.  Maybe, sort of, going back to a simpler way. The bakery school is nearly ready, my head full of ideas and fun ways to educate and inspire.  We keep going, keep shouting about real food, a purpose firmly in place, focused. 

Three grain Irish choux with Irish cheese, wild herbs and blossom

I can hear the terns before I’m even past the tennis courts, I look for them as I cross the river, it’s cloudy but bright and I squint against the glare of the sun. The sky and sea are both a light greyish blue, I see them now, coming closer towards the shore, head parallel to the water ready to dive.   

Speedwell; a clever little herbal plant

Organic green lentils, Armagh Asparagus, freezer peas, herbs, zingy dressing and a VERY generous dollop of aioli.

Current Zoe advice says we should aim to eat 30 different plants per week saying it can boost the diversity and health of your gut microbiome. And in turn, it may affect many other aspects of your health, read more here. With that in mind I counted the plants in a single dinner;

1. Asparagus

2. lentils

3. peas

4. chive

5. tarragon

6. mint

7. oregano

8. pepper

9. sunflower seeds

10. sesame seeds

11. chilli

12. rocket

13. garlic

Plus olive oil and sunshine