They’re the brightest food market indictor of autumn, as well as being a versatile and storable staple ingredient: oh my gourd, squash season is upon us.
I love a butternut squash soup as much as any cosy-seeker, but when it comes to branching out to the myriad other varieties, I’ve been nervous. Will the skin of an acorn squash destroy a peeler? Can you cook anything beyond pie with a pumpkin? It’s time to find out. Read More
Man, I’m late with this one. Hedgerows have been thick with blackberries for weeks, thanks to a meterological anomaly of a year that’s brought a heatwave and with it early sightings of autumnal fruits. Same as every year, I’ve been opening drawers to stare longingly at wooly tights, so this turn of events is all too welcome. In mid-August I rolled up my jeans, went off for a walk in search of these gems – with the Myths & Legends podcast in my ears– and was rewarded with a lot of nettle stings but, more importantly, a big bag of blackberries.
During my outings, I’ve also picked a berry with a fat spider on it and stood on a bird corpse. Swings and roundabouts.
To be pernickety, blackberries aren’t really berries at all – they’re made up of drupelets, the individual bobbles you get on raspberries and blackberries – and have also been known as brambleberries, brumblekites and lawers. No matter what you call them, they’re also great in terms of fibre and vitamin C. For me, blackberries = crumble time, but I guess it’s time to branch out… Read More
For 23 years, I hated tomatoes. I hated them with a passion – cutting them, touching them, sometimes even looking at them made me recoil. It’s the firm outside and squishy inside. Or its the way they spurt when you bite into them, and the weird jelly that surrounds the seeds. For 23 years, my dad asked me on at least a monthly basis if I liked tomatoes, making a shudder pass through me as I contemplated them. No.
And then one day the answer was yes…right as he learned that I do not like tomatoes. We’re now three years into the reversal, and sometimes when I see a photo of a dark, juicy, fleshy specimen I salivate instead of sneer in disgust. Now that we’re in British tomato season, that happens with alarming regularity, a craving I never thought I’d feel. Read More
If you imagine me coming to a screeching halt like a cartoon character approaching the edge of a cliff, you’d be about right. I’ve barely had time to come up for air since Easter, let alone do any food experiments – my go-to dinner has become rushed noodle soup or store-bought fishcakes at a push.
As anyone who follows me on Instagram knows, I’ve mostly been eating ice cream in various corners of the country, which, although a great pastime, and one that I fully intend to continue, has left me craving savoury. Just the odd vegetable, please. Read More