V-day

As Valentine's Day approaches each year many romantics are filled with equal measures of hope and dread. Not me. Mr. B and I decided long ago it was not for us. I think of it as a 'Hallmark' occasion.
This year was a bit different, well for me anyway. I had a bride and her sister checking in to our next-door AirBnB house on the 13th. They would spend the night before the wedding there, having a bit of a girls night with the bridesmaids, then prepare themselves and leave for the wedding on Valentine's day. The newly wed couple would then return for their wedding night. No pressure . . . I just had to make it perfect for the bride. After-all this was going to be part of a big chapter in her life, the stuff of memories. I decided I would festoon the house with flowers. I started planning it in my head weeks before.
As it happens, and it may be a symptom of my over-excited, over-active thyroid state, I was uncharacteristically swept up with the romance of it all. I decided I would put on a surprise romantic meal for two for me and Mr.B, but on the eve of Valentine's Day, as I needed him to be at work so I could spend the day cooking without interruption.
Just the week before, he had spontaneously bought me 2 cook books that I had admired recently - 'Jerusalem' and 'Plenty' by Yotam Ottolenghi, so I thought I'd prepare a middle eastern style feast for my beloved. A few weeks before, I had also spotted a beautiful beaten metal lamp shade in a local bohemian home wares store, reminiscent of one we had seen in Bali and regretted not buying. I bought it immediately and it became the centrepiece of my plan. I would set up a table and chairs for 2 in our back yard and hang the lamp from the tree above. I planned fairy lights in the jasmine and candle-light clustered amongst the potted palms. I pictured a balmy summer evening. I obviously read too many 'lifestyle' magazines.
I'll start with the lamp. Of course it was not supplied with any kind of electrical fitting. No problem, I'm a handy kind of girl. So early in the week, off I went to our local DIY superstore and perused their lighting department. A kindly staff member tried hard to make head or tail of the issue, was charmed by the back story, and came up with a suggestion. Plan A: I buy a cheap outdoor floodlight and dismantle it, then pass the electrical wire through the top of the lamp shade and wire on a plug - Bob's your uncle! I got straight to it, no time to waste. Unfortunately once the flood light was out of the packet, I saw the plug was sealed on, and the light itself not as dismantlable as I hoped. I cut through the wire at the light fitting end, and passed it through the narrow tubular opening at the top of the gorgeous lamp shade. It came through, but the rough metal took rather a lot of the plastic off the wire - dodgy. I spliced the wires back together and wrapped them tightly with insulation tape - tah-dah! The flood light globe was too big for the lampshade and hanging at a alarmingly rakish angle. With baited breath and wearing rubber soled shoes, I plugged it in and flicked the switch. The light came on - victory! I stood back and gave it a final appraisal. It was a Frankenstein's monster of a thing - I could not hang that from our tree. One of us would definitely end up in A&E. I took it apart - it actually fell apart - just as well for the rubber soled shoes. Plan B: The next day I went to our local Swedish home-wares  behemoth and bought a cheap little table lamp, thinking that if I couldn't disconnect it and feed the wire through the lampshade, at least I could use it as a lamp elsewhere. It didn't work. Plan C: Next day I went over the road to my neighbour to ask for help. His lovely wife generously volunteered his time, and he had a horrified look at what I'd done so far. He looked online and sent me back to the DIY superstore to get an outdoor path light and a plug. The reasoning was that it would be low voltage and for outdoor use, smaller than the previous floodlight set-up, and not as dangerous to work on myself. Off I went again. I found the exact thing, but it looked a bit dubious to me. As I was leaving I saw a super-cheapo plastic garden up-light - only $4, the right shape if turned upside down, and totally made of plastic. I bought it as back-up. Once home I set to again. Time was of the essence and day was approaching fast. I couldn't make the path light work due to another sealed on plug, and I was not game to disconnect everything again. Plan D: The cheap plastic up-light was my final hope. It had the kind of rudimentary set-up where the electrical wire runs up into the globe connection where 2 metal spikes are driven directly into the wire to complete the circuit. I managed to get the wire through the lamp shade tube, but didn't seem to be able to drive the spikes deep enough into the wire, so off to my patient neighbour once more. He managed to do it in about 30 seconds flat. Thank goodness for kind and handy neighbours. The lighting part of the plan was accomplished.

The best laid plans . . . the beautiful, bohemian lamp shade.

Now for the cooking. I had been designing the menu for a few days and settled on the following menu.

Mezze course:
Burnt aubergine with garlic, lemon and pomegranate
Bittersweet salad (like love apparently, bitter and sweet)
Pureed beetroot with yoghurt and za'atar
Figs with basil, goat's curd and pomegranate vinaigrette
Main:
Roast chicken with clementines and arak served on a bed of rice
Dessert:
Set yoghurt puddings with poached peaches

Bear in mind I have never cooked from these books or anything middle eastern before. What's the worst that could happen? I discussed my plans with the ladies from the dog park. "You know you have to be a pretty experienced to cook from Ottolenghi. Have you cooked middle eastern food before?" Ha! Negative to both. My resolve was weakening. My over-active thyroid spurred me on. A frantic, but surprisingly fun, few days saw me driving all over town for exotic and unfamiliar ingredients: Za'atar, orange blossom water, date syrup, pomegranate molasses. I couldn't source Arak, but Yotam assured me that Ouzo would do the trick. Then onto the fresh ingredients. I was informed by the dog park cooks that Ottolenghi's recipes are maddening in their disregard for seasonal produce, and so it transpired. Fennel is in season now, but the clementines to accompany it are not - tired-looking mandarins from the USA had to suffice. Pomegranates are abundant, but blood oranges nowhere to be seen. The stand-in was a ruby red grapefruit. I soldiered on being creative and not discouraged.
The actual cooking went pretty much to plan. Dessert was completed the day before and stowed in the fridge next-door. The heady perfume of the peaches poaching in Ouzo was intoxicating. All good so far. Mr B was banned from the house next-door under the pretext that it was cleaned within an inch of it's life (which it was, simultaneous to the shopping and light connecting) for the bride/guest who would be checking in the next day.
The morning of the 13th dawned and finally panic set in. 8.15am drop girls at school. 8.30am at the market getting chicken and other fresh stuff for the meal and flowers for the AirBnB house bride/guest festooning. No time for breakfast. 10am take Annie to the dog park. 11am marinade chicken etc for main dish - needs a few hours. Beetroot in the oven for roasting. Midday cut branches from magnolia tree in the front yard, olive from the back yard and purple foliage and gum flowers from the trees in the street. Combine with market flowers to fill 4 huge vases and arrange at the house prior to check-in. Guest arrives promptly at 2pm, just as I'm accepting pretty white flowers for the house from my neighbour, who's gathered them from the street on her walk and is also caught up with the excitement. I greet the guest with dirty hands and face and leaves in my hair. It's around 30 degrees and I like to think I'm glowing, if somewhat damp. First impressions are so important.

Branches of magnolia, olive, flowering gum and ornamental cherry.

Festooned with flowers ready for our AirBnB bride. The bride leaving for the wedding ceremony - you should have seen the size of the stretch limo parked in our narrow, one-way street!

 

2.10pm back in the kitchen burning aubergines directly over the hob on the stove top. Messy but fun. Always up for something new. 4.30pm girls arrive home from school to find their mother and the kitchen in disarray. I've still eaten nothing by this point. They take charge, one organising tea and biscuits, the other extracting pomegranate seeds. 5.30pm Miss S goes to taekwondo - thank goodness I'm not doing the driving run today. The mezze dishes are mostly done or at least ready to assemble. The chicken is ready to pop in the oven. It starts to pour with rain. Torrential rain. Plans A,B,C,D for the bohemian, lamp-lit al fresco feast go out the window. 6pm Plan E takes shape as we spontaneously fling together table cloth and candles to create a 'romantic restaurant at home' setting. I put on a pretty frock and try not to look hot and bothered.

Romantic table set up. Look at the torrential rain outside.

6.30pm the doorbell rings, like a scene from 'My Kitchen Rules'. Mr. B and his bike are dripping and bedraggled. "Why don't you jump straight in the shower?" I call from the back of the house, desperately trying to buy some time, to no avail. Miss E launches another stalling strategy, throwing his own dirty socks at him as he strips off soaking wet gear. It's a little ritual they do most nights, but usually his socks aren't sopping wet. He doesn't buy it, and miss E gives up. He saunters down the hallway in his bathrobe, dripping unattractively. This is not the breathtaking restaurant reveal I'd imagined. "Surprise!"
"Oh! What's this? Special Friday 13th dinner?" He got with the programme pretty smartish and went and put on appropriate attire whilst I plated up the first course and got the main in the oven.
It went brilliantly. The feast was sumptuous, if I say so myself, and I was proud I'd accomplished this not insignificant event with a just little help from my friend Yotam, and a lot from my wonderful daughters. Mr B. declared it one of the best meals he'd ever eaten. Every dish was amazing, but my personal favourite was the Bitter Sweet salad. As Yotam said, both bitter and sweet, like love itself. After 28 years with the same person, you've got to pull out all the stops in the name of romance just once in a while.



Bitter Sweet salad - my favourite.

Roast chicken with clementines, fennel and arak (I used ouzo)

Set yogurt pudding with poached peaches.

The Olive Harvest

A few weeks ago I finally harvested the olives from our back yard trees. It was tricky this year, with loads still green and unripe when the first ones were ready, and we had perfect, sunny days. Then there was a long run of rainy weather where ladder climbing would have been reckless. So frustrating! Birds made off with the biggest, juiciest olives whilst I looked on, crossly.
Finally we had the perfect olives coinciding with the perfect weather, but not before much of the booty had been pilfered.

Finally! The perfect day for harvesting.



Beautiful luscious fruit, ripe for the picking.

 Last year, a lovely lady from our dog walking group suggested I give it a go, and even brought me a recipe for preserving olives. I'd never even considered it. Preserving your own olives seemed to me something only experienced Greek or Italian Nonas should attempt. I felt like a fraud.
I faced my misgivings and had a go anyway. We had 4 spindly, young trees that had been planted no more than 3 years previously, in our tiny courtyard along the fence line to screen out next door's house. They were laden with fruit. I picked an incredible 9.5 kilos of fabulous, enormous kalamata olives, followed the recipe to the letter, and was rewarded by the most delicious olives we'd ever tasted. I was unbelievably excited and proud. You should have seen me strutting about - veggies, eggs and now our own olives. It made me disproportionately happy! Mr.B was putting them out on platters whenever anyone dropped by - garnished with sprigs of thyme from the garden. I think he felt like the gentleman farmer for a moment. There was even a nano-second where he thought getting our own bee-hive was a good idea!
This year the harvest wasn't nearly as bountiful, but they were pretty big and juicy. I harvested only 3.5 kilos this time - those birds must have been pretty happy with the bad weather!

3.5 kilos of the finest Kalamata olives from The Urban Nest Estate! ; Washing; Slitting down each side of each olive.

So we have 12 jars of treasure sitting in a dark, cool cupboard. They'll be there for a while until they're ready for the next stage, and then I'll break open the extra virgin olive oil, herbs, chillies, spices and any other fancy, gourmet trappings I can think of. I can't wait. Why don't you drop by in a few months, and we'll open a bottle of wine and try them.

Olives slit both sides; Last year's harvest being bottled; I can report these olives with lemon, fennel seeds, garlic and chilli were amazing!

Gluten Free Banana Bread

I don't know about you, but I seem to be throwing away over-ripe bananas all the time during the warm weather - even the chickens are sick of them. This super easy gluten free banana bread is my solution and the absolute favourite in our house at the moment. I baked a loaf a few days ago, and it was all eaten up before I could photograph it. It is so easy and really delicious. I wanted to save some for the girls' lunchboxes - not a chance. Today I had another go whilst everyone was out. Mission accomplished.
It's definitely my kind of recipe - mix all the ingredients together, put in a pan, bake, eat. Simple.
I'm pretty sure it would work just fine if you used regular flour instead of gluten free, but I haven't tried, so I don't really know.
I found the recipe online and unfortunately the link doesn't work anymore, so you'll have to make do with my version. I have made some amendments after trying it out a few times.

1 cup gluten free self raising flour
1/4 cup almond meal - if nuts are an issue just use the extra 1/4 cup of flour
1 level tsp bicarbonate of soda
3/4 cup sugar - I used soft brown sugar. I reckon muscovado sugar would taste fantastic.
2 eggs
1/2 cup canola oil
2 ripe bananas - mushed up with a fork
1 heaped tsp cinnamon
The original recipe suggests changing things up by adding 1/2 cup of fresh blueberries. That would be nice. I'm going to give chopped dates and nuts a try sometime. I think the girls would appreciate chocolate chips too.

Place the mushed bananas, eggs, oil and sugar into a mixer, blender or food processor, or do it by hand. Mix until smooth.
Add all the dry ingredients - flour, almond meal, baking soda, cinnamon, and mix until smooth.
Pour into a loaf pan lined with baking parchment and bake in the centre of the oven at 175 degrees C, for 45 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. The original recipe says bake for 60 minutes, but mine would have been over done and burnt to a crisp by then. Maybe it's because my oven is fan-forced.

Leave in the pan until cool enough to handle. Turn onto a wire rack to cool completely.

I sliced it while it was still slightly warm, and spread with butter. Scrumptious with a nice cup of tea or glass of milk.

It's great lightly toasted too, but take care as it's quite delicate - use the grill rather than the toaster.

Enjoy!

Oh Well . . . .

Those beetroot I raised from seed and planted an age ago - you know, those beetroot that I've been watching and waiting and watering and wishing . . . . Well, I vowed that I would give them a couple more weeks and then that was it. Well . . . . someone else has started harvesting them without asking. I'm not happy. I found little shrivelled beetroot corpses dug up and carelessly tossed on the ground twice over the weekend. I suspect the pair of charming (hmmph) blackbirds that have been visiting the garden and scratching up all the mulch in their quest for bugs. Not so charming as it turns out.
Reluctantly I decided that I would pull up the lot yesterday, a little prematurely, rather than lose them all.
It seems that good things come to those that wait. It was with surprise and whooping delight that I found buried treasure. OK, it's not exactly an abundant crop of harvest festival proportions, but it's actual beetroot that I can do something with. I am as proud as if I had given birth to them myself.
I prepared them soooo carefully. Precious, like gemstones. We had an absolutely delicious and super healthy beetroot and lentil salad with rocket and goat's cheese, with pan fried salmon fillet for dinner tonight. Yum. Food does seem extra special when you grow it yourself.

Looking skanky - not much happening here; Shrivelled discovery.

Good things come to those that wait.

Look at the colour!

Roast beetroot and lentil salad with goats cheese

 

Jamie's Tomato Chutney

After having picked a little over 2 and a half kilos of tomatoes in one go last Friday, then even more over the weekend, I officially pronounced a glut. Today I decided to make Jamie Oliver's Easy Tomato Chutney.
I made this last year and it was so delicious that the girls were hanging around the kitchen drooling this afternoon. Miss E even wanted to help, which is rare, and then asked to lick the bowl. Anyone would have thought I was making chocolate cake.
It really is super easy, absolutely yummy in a sticky, sweet, jammy way, and just gorgeous with a bit of toast and cheddar. The only downside is that it only keeps for up to 4 weeks in the fridge, not for years like your granny's.
Here's the recipe. It makes 1 jar. I made 3 times the amount. Try it. Thanks Jamie!

250g red onions, finely sliced.
500g mixed tomatoes, roughly chopped.
1 red chilli, deseeded and sliced.
75ml red wine vinegar.
140g brown sugar.

Put everything in a pan. Season to taste and give it all a good stir.
Bring to the boil over a medium heat and simmer until it's a jammy consistency. Jamie says 30 - 40 minutes, but mine took longer. You may need to lower the heat. Keep your eye on it so it doesn't burn and catch on the bottom of the pan as the burnt taste will spoil the chutney (I did this last year). It will be a dark, rich red colour and reduced by about half.
Pour into a sterilised jar and leave to cool before transferring to the fridge.
It will keep in the fridge for up to 4 weeks, Jamie says, but I doubt mine will last that long.

Gluten Free Muffins

The girls and I were invited over to a new friend's house for morning last week, so as Miss E has coeliac disease, I got up early and baked a batch of gluten free raspberry and white chocolate muffins to take with us. I've been baking gluten free goodies for over 10 years now, since Miss E was diagnosed when she was 2 and a half. I bake often and freeze for school lunches, and since there's no way I'm baking separate batches, I've worked out recipes that are yummy, and appreciated by everyone. Having said that, this particular morning's muffins were a disaster of biblical proportions. They sank in the middle and were crispy little shells full of gooey uncooked glugginess. Our host was gracious and lied through gritted teeth to assure me they were delicious, but they were horrible. No idea why, as this recipe always (usually) works. I must have still been half asleep.
The girls are back to school today, so after having performed several star jumps of joy, I've had another go and baked this rather more delicious batch of orange and cranberry muffins to share with you, and to pop in their lunch boxes this week. The original recipe was from The Australian Coeliac Society magazine, now with my own refinements.

1 cup sugar
1/2 cup canola oil
2 eggs
2 small thin skinned oranges
1 handful of dried cranberries
3 tblsp natural yogurt - I use Greek yogurt.
1 tsp baking soda
1 cup gluten free self raising flour
1 cup almond meal - I used a raw health food type one for a change. Worked well.

Pre-heat oven to 200 C.
Place muffin liners in a 12 hole muffin pan. I made super stylish rustic ones for this post. Just cut baking parchment into squares, press into hole with a juice glass and press the creases in. I don't usually do this, I just use ordinary ones.
Wash oranges and chop up roughly, skin and all. Whizz in a food processor until a chunky salsa type consistency.
Beat sugar, oil and eggs thoroughly with an electric mixer.
Add orange mixture and cranberries to egg mixture.
Add gluten free flour and almond meal and mix with a wooden spoon until well combined.
Dissolve baking soda in the yogurt and fold gently into the other ingredients.
Spoon into muffin cases and bake on the middle shelf for about 12 - 15 minutes, or when springy to touch.
Put the kettle on and make yourself a nice cup of tea and enjoy one while it's still warm from the oven.

Roast Tomato Pasta

Everyone has a few quick and easy favourite meals in their repertoire. My go-to meal is roast tomato pasta, especially in summer when I have plenty of tomatoes in the garden. It's so easy, pretty quick, and a complete no-brainer. We eat this on a weekly basis and it's always the meal I choose if I need to feed a crowd. I cooked it for my extended family in the UK when we were there last year - they absolutely loved it. Funny, one of my sisters asked me for the recipe when I'm sure I got it from her in the first place. Anyway, it's a crowd pleaser, and cheap and easy, which is always a plus.
Here's how I do it. You can make it your own.

About 500g ripe tomatoes - I use cherry tomatoes when I have to get them from the shops - halved width ways, otherwise, whatever oddly shaped ones you have in the garden, chopped to about that size, will do fine.
2 red capsicums de-seeded and cut into about 5 x 2cm pieces - no need to be very precise.
2 red onions peeled and cut into eighths lengthwise.
A few garlic cloves, unpeeled -  more or less depending on how much you like garlic.
1 cup pitted kalamata olives - cut in half if you can be bothered.
100g Greek Feta - I use Dodoni brand.
Fresh basil leaves torn - if you have it on hand.
Olive oil.
Sea salt flakes.
Pasta - I use penne - enough for 4 people

Pre-heat oven to 220 degrees fan forced.
Pour enough olive oil into a large roasting pan to pretty much coat the bottom.
Do all your cutting and prepping and then throw tomatoes, capsicum, onions and garlic into the pan and turn to coat with the olive oil until glistening. Season with salt.
Put a pan of water on to boil, for the pasta. When boiling turn down to a simmer so it's ready when you need it.
Roast vegetables in the oven, on a middle to high shelf position, for about 15 minutes.
Check that the vegetables aren't burning, turn them about in the juices with a spatula.
The tomatoes should have collapsed and will become the sauce.
Return to the oven for another 10 minutes or so, or until the juices have reduced a bit and become more saucy and sticky.
Meanwhile, put the pasta on to boil, for whatever time the packet says - usually 8 - 10 minutes.
Once the roast tomato mixture is ready add the olives to the pan, with the crumbled feta and mix to combine and for the feta to melt a bit into the sauce.
Drain the pasta well and add to the pan. Mix everything together to coat the pasta. If it's a bit dry I add a bit of extra virgin olive oil, or a splash of the pasta water and mix through.
Serve with torn basil leaves on top. Yummy!
Sometimes I add a few bacon rashers to the pan at the 15 minute mark, which gives it 10 minutes in the oven and then I break it up into the mixture when it's done.
Sometimes I add a few sprigs of thyme during roasting, and then take out the stalky bits at the end - also yummy.

Boxing Day.

I love Boxing Day. I love the wonderful feeling when you wake up, and realise that the Christmas chaos is a whole year away, that you can have a serious lie-in , wear your pyjamas all day, watch the Boxing Day Test on TV, and my absolute favourite . . . . eat left-overs. I have extended the post Christmas euphoria for as long as possible this year, and even though it's only the misses S and E wearing their PJ's all day, and I'm spending quite a lot of time up a ladder painting weather boards in 38 degree heat, I am watching the cricket to my heart's content and dishing up left-overs for every meal.
Since we had pescetarians over for Christmas lunch this year, we had left-over BBQ salmon with lemon and herbs amongst others. So on Boxing Day I made a sort-of nicoise salad with home grown butter beans and free-range eggs (thanks girls) and the absolutely delicious salmon flaked into it. Served with left-over brown rice salad and potato salad, in the garden, on the most perfect sunny 28 degree day, with Mr.B and the girls, I had all the ingredients for the most perfect relaxing day. I love Boxing Day.

 

The perfect combination of salad and dessert.

Last weekend, on a splendid sunny day, we were invited to a lunchtime BBQ at our next-door neighbour's place. It was lovely to catch up with them and their new baby boy, relaxing on a rug on  their lawn with a drink in hand, and admiring their tiny, but very productive veggie patch. A perfect day. They put on a veritable feast, including the most magnificent salad I've tasted for a good while.
A surprising and unlikely selection of ingredients, Mr. B proclaimed it the perfect combination of salad and dessert. Showcasing ripe, luscious mangoes, supported by a cast of spinach, mung bean shoots, crunchy water chestnuts, and crispy bacon, it was, as they say, a taste sensation.
Be brave. Give it a go. You won't regret it.

Salad:
1 Ripe mango, peeled and sliced
2 bunches English spinach, washed, dried and chopped into strips
(I couldn't get English spinach so I used baby spinach - but it wasn't as good)
150g bean shoots washed and dried
5oz tin water chestnuts rinsed well, patted dry and sliced
6 bacon rashers, chopped, fried until crisp and drained on paper towels

Dressing:
2/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
1/3 cup tomato ketchup
1/3 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 small onion, finely chopped

Gently combine all the salad ingredients, taking care not to mush up the mango. Mix all dressing ingredients together thoroughly. Dress the salad and toss carefully just before serving. Enough for a crowd. Serve with anything really - you don't need me to tell you what.

 

The last day of the first year of high school

Yesterday was the last day of the first year of high school for misses S and E. It's a milestone that's gone pretty much unnoticed by them, but not by me. It's not a huge milestone, not like last year's transition from primary to high school, and yet I feel strangely melancholy.
There have been so many new things this year. New school, new teachers, new subjects. New independence, new friends and new crazes.
The craze that swept their school this year, and drove me and Mr.B bonkers, is the cup song. What? Never heard of such a thing? I suspect it swept every high school in Australia, and may have been trending internationally - or whatever.
Last week I was in the audience at the student organised, created and produced End of Year Chorals competition. Each of the 4 houses performed a series of choreographed musical numbers based on a theme of their choosing. The compulsory whole house number in each performance was 'The Cup Song'.
It seems to have been the background music for this special stage in the girls' lives, and sums up what 13 year old girls are all about. The tune seems a little melancholy to me.
I present Miss S and Miss E performing 'The Cup Song' for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy!

Cup Song, 'When I'm Gone' by Anna Kendrick from the movie 'Pitch Perfect'

Lunch

Do you eat lunch? I have to admit that I'm a serial lunch skipper. I just get so busy and involved in whatever I'm doing that lunchtime just goes by unnoticed. If I do consider my stomach rumblings then it's usually peanut butter on toast. Suddenly the girls are home and the rush is on. Homework, taekwondo, choir, dinner . . . . and the day is over.
Today is different. The sun is out, I'm not in a rush, and I noticed herbs looking enticing in the garden. They smelled good, fresh, summery.
Tomatoes on toast with herbs,3 ways, was on the menu. Delicious with a pinch of sea salt and a dribble of extra virgin olive oil, with home cured olives on the side. Beats peanut butter.


Oregano, basil and mint

 



Today's Harvest

Freshly picked peas from the garden.



The first crop of crisp yellow beans.

I was so excited to finally get a crop of broad beans. I've probably picked these too young, but I couldn't wait.

Everything in the garden has exploded into life. After the heavy rain that seemed to fall for weeks, the sudden hot spell has caused an abundance. Spring vegetable risotto for dinner tonight! 

Post by The Urban Nest.