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revolution & ritual
May. 16th, 2020 11:56 pmToday I turned 30, and the lemon tree is unambiguously stubbornly growing new leaves.
Yesterday, Adam took me on a daring and reckless outing to Trent Country Park, with the Tramper on its trailer in tow. I whizzed around gleefully off-path; I visited the square water and the obelisk; I went down the vista hill that was, last visit, the point at which we had to turn back because of battery (and in the process observed, for the first time, the Tramper charging itself on long slopes down); we explored some of the wee lakes, and met an astonishing sawfly larva that turns out not to be a caterpillar at all despite all appearances (being of the order Hymenoptera rather than Lepidoptera).
We baked The Best Scones I Have Ever Been Involved With. The post brought a digital minmax thermometer for the greenhouse, and a set of Paper Potters courtesy of Nether Wallop Trading. I made bread. We watched the first episode of the final season of She-Ra.
Today I had Celebratory Lunch: caraway sourdough with British asparagus and lots of butter and a little lemon juice and Rosary Ash. A took me to the allotment; in addition to the lemon leaves, the tomatoes are finally starting to produce flower buds. (Mama's secateurs.) Over the course of the rest of the afternoon I made the ancestral chocolate-hazelnut cake -- recipe from the maternal line, cake knives various belonging to Mama, Kenwood from Papa as a ~graduation present, cake tin from my paternal grandmother, redcurrant jam made by yours truly -- and ravioli, filled with butternut squash and ricotta and fake Parmesan and nutmeg and sage and fennel seed, with lots of it frozen and half the dough still to be turned into pasta tomorrow. (It always goes wrong! I'm sure three eggs is not enough for 300g of flour! I can sort it out eventually but it always needs so much more liquid, my goodness.) I can at least cook for our future selves, even if I can't feed you today.
I used the paper potters to get myself together to sow some sweetcorn, and the rest of the Gigantes. I potted up the comedy onions and the still-at-home squash. I've not had a proper look through my new cookbook yet, but I'm looking forward to it.
Several of you donated to The Trussell Trust: thank you especially. Thank you also for getting in touch, variously, as you have.
I had expected my birthday this year to go rather differently in a number of respects, notwithstanding that I spent a lot of it in the kitchen. But -- it's been quiet, and peaceful, and lovely.
♥
Yesterday, Adam took me on a daring and reckless outing to Trent Country Park, with the Tramper on its trailer in tow. I whizzed around gleefully off-path; I visited the square water and the obelisk; I went down the vista hill that was, last visit, the point at which we had to turn back because of battery (and in the process observed, for the first time, the Tramper charging itself on long slopes down); we explored some of the wee lakes, and met an astonishing sawfly larva that turns out not to be a caterpillar at all despite all appearances (being of the order Hymenoptera rather than Lepidoptera).
We baked The Best Scones I Have Ever Been Involved With. The post brought a digital minmax thermometer for the greenhouse, and a set of Paper Potters courtesy of Nether Wallop Trading. I made bread. We watched the first episode of the final season of She-Ra.
Today I had Celebratory Lunch: caraway sourdough with British asparagus and lots of butter and a little lemon juice and Rosary Ash. A took me to the allotment; in addition to the lemon leaves, the tomatoes are finally starting to produce flower buds. (Mama's secateurs.) Over the course of the rest of the afternoon I made the ancestral chocolate-hazelnut cake -- recipe from the maternal line, cake knives various belonging to Mama, Kenwood from Papa as a ~graduation present, cake tin from my paternal grandmother, redcurrant jam made by yours truly -- and ravioli, filled with butternut squash and ricotta and fake Parmesan and nutmeg and sage and fennel seed, with lots of it frozen and half the dough still to be turned into pasta tomorrow. (It always goes wrong! I'm sure three eggs is not enough for 300g of flour! I can sort it out eventually but it always needs so much more liquid, my goodness.) I can at least cook for our future selves, even if I can't feed you today.
I used the paper potters to get myself together to sow some sweetcorn, and the rest of the Gigantes. I potted up the comedy onions and the still-at-home squash. I've not had a proper look through my new cookbook yet, but I'm looking forward to it.
Several of you donated to The Trussell Trust: thank you especially. Thank you also for getting in touch, variously, as you have.
I had expected my birthday this year to go rather differently in a number of respects, notwithstanding that I spent a lot of it in the kitchen. But -- it's been quiet, and peaceful, and lovely.
♥