The cuckoo woke me in the morning, the soft, repetitive call gliding into my slumber, over and over as I start to wake from early morning dreaming. My alarm goes off, the peace disturbed. I lie silent waiting for the cuckoo to start again. Nothing. I doubt myself, sleep or reality. It’s often difficult to focus on the sounds of nature with the three kiddos in tow; we whisper (loudly) we tread carefully (for the first few minutes) but I want them to be explorers too, using their imagination as they run wildly up the slopes into their ‘tree house’ in the forest. We’ve seen red squirrels there, a stoat once, we check the water for frogs or tadpoles. I let them be adventurers as I saunter slowly to stand by the Oak feeling the immense energy from this ancient tree. This is my place of calm; despite the excited shrieks of the children and the panic inducing memory of the time Michael fell into the pond. It’s where my mind goes for tranquillity, the green, the quiet, the grounding. Any kind of urge or request to look inward I find myself on the bench below the canopy of the Oak, safe.
The wisdom of the third eye.
This week I’ve been working on my balance; the reevaluating of work and life. BIG things but good things! It has coincided aptly with a week of better weather and a chance to be outside more in the garden, clearing out the veg and flower beds, planting seeds. A renewal; literally the actions mirroring my mood. I planted extra in the hope I can give more away, use more in work, ferment more, this is an effort to be more rooted, connected, slowing down the pace.
This weekend I was solo parenting as Dara was visiting our beautiful friends in Southend on Sea, check out Dean’s tattoo studio here. Four nights of solo dinners (I can’t get the kids to eat how I like to eat yet) I look in the fridge; it’s predominantly beer and condiments and I wonder what I can magic up. The vegetable drawer is sad, there’s not much in the garden yet and I really, really can’t be arsed to go to the shop.
Night One
Rye Toast with Asparagus, garden herbs and leaves
I’ve been practicing making a delicious 100% rye loaf, using Organic Rye flour from Gilchesters. It’s full of flavour and keeps well for a week. I don’t make any bread in the bakery so it’s nice to feel the dough and learn this process, something new for me. Since it’s warm(ish) I feel like eating salad; not the classic restaurant options, Caesar or Beetroot & Goats Cheese, or the Irish favourite mayo heavy coleslaw and potato ‘salad’. Fresh, green and honest please. Asparagus season has started and it feels compulsory to eat as much as possible of this yummy vegetable, we get a couple of precious boxes every fortnight from Armagh and I sneak a handful home. In the late afternoon sun I head into the garden to grab some greenery; the rocket in the polytunnel is doing well, marjoram, tarragon, chive and fennel from the herby areas and sorrel, three cornered leek and dandelion from the wilder edges. I steamed the asparagus then tossed with lots of olive oil, salt, pepper and some lemon juice and piled everything on top of the rye toast with some Coolcush cheese-I recommend a microplane grater/zester for cheese grating so you don’t overdo it, I don’t want to say life changing but…
Dandelion is a great little plant, edible from top to bottom. Highly prized in medicinal circles with potent diuretic properties and as a cure for many things but hated amongst many modern day gardeners. How could we dislike this cheery yellow flower with its bitter jagged leaves? Becky Cole has some really gorgeous ways to use dandelion here, you will be eating a handful a day when you realise how good it is for you.
Night Two
Seared Cabbage with tomato & quinoa sauce, tahini and pesto
A sorry looking half sweetheart cabbage will be the star tonight. Cut in half and into a smoking hot pan, meanwhile I wonder what to have with it. A memory; somewhere in rural Bolivia we stopped at a roadside eatery, warm and welcoming with cotton tablecloths fluttering in the sunny breeze. We got a sort of herby soupy stew with quinoa, delicious, nourishing for weary travellers (not the dry, musty accompaniment I had tried before). The kind words of the Americans who sat with us, exchange of addresses, my painful sorrow. I found a bottle of tomato juice unopened from the Christmas Bloody Marys that didn’t happen to add to the quinoa and finished the plate with tahini sauce and a sort of pesto/gremolata with toasted hazelnut, marjoram, garlic and mint. I use the zest of the lemon from the day before in the pesto and the rest of the juice in the tahini sauce. This gorgeous quinoa is grown in Essex & Somerset and is easy to prepare, versatile and tasty. Back in 2013 the global price of quinoa had tripled, Alicia Kennedy points out, ‘ making imported food in those countries (Peru and Bolivia) more affordable and leading to monocropping of historically diverse land.’ A reminder of my ever growing awareness of food and how I try to scrutinise the practices and principles that create the produce from the soil to soul, is there good intention, care, thoughtfulness, positivity?
My kids were shocked when I told them ketchup isn’t real food.
Night Three
Spud galette with salad and parmesan.
One potato. Its clear to me that this lonely guy should be wrapped up in buttery pastry, I spread the last of the salsa macha on the base. Whilst it’s in the oven I make a nutritious tomato and lentil ragu with the leftover tomato juice and a parmesan rind from the freezer for the kids pasta. Even though the rocket has been pilfered 3 times this weekend, it’s still giving, I eat as I pick, looping the leaves over on themselves with my tongue like I used with a stick of Juicy Fruit chewing gum in my teens. Paired with peas from the freezer, the littlest ones favourite snack, mint leaves and parmesan with olive oil and balsamic. A couple of years ago when we got our polytunnel our friends bought us a little chilli plant. It grew steadily and produced loads of vibrant fiery red chillis at the end of the summer. I dried quite a few of them on a string in the kitchen and then kept them in a jar which inevitably was pushed to the back of the cupboard until the other day. I saw a gorgeous restaurant in Kinsale, St Francis Provisions was serving a Salsa Macha on one of their unbelievable looking plates of food and I immediately remembered those forgotten chillis! I looked up a few recipes then vaguely copied one, so it was only a nod to the Mexican classic. I loved using the chillis up in this way and liberally using the salsa on everything from fried eggs to cheese sandwiches.
Night Four
Gözleme with greens and feta
The weather took a turn so something comforting was needed. Poor old rocket got picked again and teamed up with its buddies sorrel, rosebay willowherb, nettle, chive, dandelion and feta, tucked into very thinly rolled dough and then fried. Half a box of very sombre mushrooms to go with it also fried HOT with loads of pepper and garlic. These squishy dough pillows were like popeye bread, the greens iron-y and rich, super savoury. I followed the wonderful Henrietta Inman’s recipe from her gorgeous book, The Natural Baker. I tried to tempt the children with promises of fancy ‘inside out pizza’ and then butchered this beautiful ancient turkish bread with cheddar and tomatoes. It was a semi success.
Three uplifting scenes from the week
The meals you produced (and pictured)are a startling inspiration.
I love your improvised solo dinners! I’m just amazed you have the energy to whip up such magical dishes after a long day 😊
Great pic of the post-swim happy faces!