It easy to get disheartened at this time of year, the days are glum but they're getting lighter. There's a cuckoo clock going off inside you, a mad desire to get outside and get things done but we only need to look outside, see the rain, the driving winds and the claggy soil to realise we may have to wait that little bit longer. Weeds may grow, weeds may sometimes win but gardens change with time and use. For us we started chronicling the lower garden back in 2010, long before we started to write about it, we never set out to have a blog, Facebook Page or social media but like the photographs we are better for it.
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Casseroles are quite filthy. They fill a part of our soul that is primeval, a sudden comforting that we can't quite place our fingers on. We associate them with our childhoods, our parents, our grandparents and remind us of time long gone. For this reason they are filthy to many television chefs, how the hell can you create a great casserole when we all have our own ideas of what makes a great casserole? The casserole, deeply personal, deeply warming, has become an unfashionable meal, a filthy word that now conjures up images of hours of chopping, hours of watching the oven, hours of waiting for a good meal and surely we can't have that in our faster than food digital world? For those of us who have been in love, been loved and in turn have loved, we know something good is worth waiting for and the casserole is an act of love, an act of sharing, it is the ultimate love in culinary terms.