Fresh from the greengrocers – an ode to purple sprouting broccoli

Purple sprouting broccoli

Would we eat better if cookery programmes were axed from the telly? Almost certainly. Inspiration for the few, oppression for the many: it’s my theory that they set absurdly unrealistic expectations of the meals we should serve up on the table each evening. Creamed this, glazed that, breaded, roasted, toasted, marinated; nothing short of a restaurant-style meal will do.

Most recipe books (written often by same said TV chefs) are just as bad. And, slave to their instructions, we scour the supermarket shelves for expensive and exotic goods. Quick fix 30-minute, nay 15-minute recipes books may pose as more straightforward, but in requiring their own host of unseasonable fare or flavour cheats – curry paste or, worse, ketchup – are merely a milder symptom of the same problem. Continue reading

In all seriousness (and beetroot)

Beetroot

Browse the internet or a bookshop and you’ll find a slew of advice on how to be taken more seriously – by your partner, your colleagues, or even by your own children. Lower your voice, hold someone’s gaze, focus on the things most important to you, and so on. It’s important too, because it’s how you get people to listen to your ideas – and even a three-year-old knows that not being listened to is one of the most frustrating things in the world. (I am writing on the eve of International Women’s Day.)

Whether these methods work is another matter, but to be taken seriously must be something we want, or we wouldn’t be so open to all that lecturing on the subject. Strange that, because I don’t see much evidence of us putting these ideas into practice. Open your eyes and ears to it: in the office sentences trail off into self-conscious laughter (of both the boisterous and meek kind); at the playground parents absent-mindedly chide small children with one eye still on their Facebook-covered iPhone screens; and lovers on the tube quarrel in mock baby voices. Mostly, it seems, we’re busy trying to be liked (whether by our new boyfriend or on social media) instead. Continue reading

My Valentine …

almonds

Now, imagine a card factory before Valentine’s Day: a never-ending line of pink-hearted, teddy-bear headed cards filing out of a printing machine, before being neatly slotted into a cellophane envelopes. Or the chocolate factory: great vats of vegetable oil, sugar and lactose swilling around before being dropped into little heart-shaped moulds and wrapped in red shiny paper. The thundering machines, the sickly smells of rancid fat … Romantic, no? Continue reading