Along the shore the kelp was stacked high, thrown onto the rocky beach by the huge force of the storm. It made the cove look different, the bank of seaweed seemed to signify the abundance of the ocean, an endless reserve with power to shift the landscape. I could feel the makings of a good week ahead; the freshness in the air felt like spring, I watched curlew and oystercatcher flock together over the muddy fields and a raven by the cliffs, gleaning meaning from this togetherness.
Imbolc (1st February) traditionally encourages new beginnings, we are naturally emerging from the solace of the cold dark months and ready to embrace the new season, making plans and setting intentions. Walking along one of my favourite stretches of the coast I toyed around with a long brewing idea in my head. I feel now is the time, the stormy waves of January pushed my plan to the fore, my stack of ideas laid out on the shoreline.
I often comment how it is our community that makes it all worthwhile, we are here because of them, we support each other. I remember back to our early days of markets and in our tiny pop up shop I got to know all our regulars by name, we knew their families, we watched their children grow up. On quiet days I’d often sit down with these people, many of whom have become friends. Through events and workshops we got to know a wider community and it felt like we were part of something, we ate together, danced, laughed and sometimes cried together. A huge amount of connections are made in our space; friendships, work, support and random beautiful moments of chance meet ups. This is community; holding a safe and welcoming space where people could be nourished with food and company.
Recently I’ve started to feel a little detached. A natural ebb away from the front facing role into baking, admin and writing means I’ve slowly moved away from feeling in the midst of that community. I don’t mind being on the periphery, our incredible staff are welcoming and warm but still it feels like something is missing. I stand looking out at my beloved Atlantic and consider what’s important, what I want to do about it. Community is paramount and I have let my role within it slip a little but the tide is turning and I think I have found a way to come back.
When I was serving front of house I could talk through the ingredients I used to bake with that morning, why they were important, why the seasons dictated how we baked, who the producers were, why the food we were offering was such high quality (more expensive!) and why we were doing it. I miss that conversation, even though sometimes I could see the customer zoning out, or maybe looking slightly bewildered as I blethered through the truth about flour or explained why we didn’t use strawberries year round. I love people, I love chatting, I love to host. We can’t always get these chats anymore, the conversation can be rushed and hurried as the queue looms. But this is important conversation and I have such passion for it, this is where we change minds, support learning, nurture understanding and respect. It’s a much bigger picture than bread and coffee.
We have the huge privilege to have an extra space, our bakery school. It’s set up for teaching but also has a beautiful atmosphere for people to get together for something different, an intimate space for conversation. As usual this hasn’t been led by financial reasons, only by the strong pull in my heart and head to get a small table of community together and make some food, we’ll sit together, we’ll chat about what we’re eating. It’s one hour of nourishment body and soul.
Every Thursday from 1-2pm* I’ll open the door to welcome you, there will be a discreet box for contributing what you can; ingredients costs will be covered from this and the rest donated to our incredible local charity Solas. I hope to hold this lunch weekly for my community and beyond, to inspire and be inspired and hopefully to once again integrate myself amongst you wonderful people.
I would love you to join me at the table xxx
*Everytime I do or plan anything it must be asterisked with the caveat ‘subject to change!’
Ciara, your lunch idea is just gorgeous! If I lived in Ireland, I would be first in line 😊
Ciara, what a beautiful idea this is! Liam and I will definitely come when we can 🌱