A recipe & when the boat came home
A simple, quiet beginning to the day. My post is about the ordinary, to sooth weary bodies and minds.
It is charcoal here today, I think soon there will be a downpour. Everything is silent, except for the tree branches that keep swishing through the air. Tarmac wet, leaves, a copper gold mosaic across the street. Raindrops on telegraph wires, a single one plops to the ground. People inside, birds hiding it out in treetops and hedges. Lights on in windows where people are working from home. Coriander flowers fluttering, a bird chirps from close by.
And now, a man carrying bags of food arrives back home, wet, but looking happy with his purchases. At the end of the road I see a car drive by, while more leaves fall down, and next doors cat scampers through a swirl of copper and gold.
I’m pondering, is it okay to talk about these ordinary happenings, and celebrate them. At a time when there are so many horrific things happening to people and human society all over the world. The thing is, that’s the point. If we just fill up on the horrors in the world, we may forget what life can be—simple, ordinary and sane. And I want to help keep that alive, in the minds of any one who would like that. I think it’s important. I know that when we lose that, we operate from the frightened, angry, feeling disempowered survival brain, and that doesn’t help anyone.
So today, as I take in these very simple things of life outside my window, I thought I’d share some recipes to nourish and replenish. These are the three latest things I made with my veg box ingredients. They are simple, nothing fancy, but easy to cook, and tasty.
This was a comfort food treat on a cold autumn day. I sautéd some finely chopped leek in a unsalted butter with matchsticks of garlic until soft. Then I added arborio rice (1/3 cup per person), sautéd for a minute then started to add stock a little at a time until it was cooked. Then I stirred through some of that beetroot I roasted, with finely grated Parmesan, more butter, a little course sea salt and black pepper. Simple but very cosy—when I write my cookery book next year I will weigh all the ingredients for you. Right now I’m just indulging in creative cooking.
Copper gold leaves
Single bird chirping
Warm mug of something nice
I thought I’d write a little bit more of one of my fall asleep story’s that I will record.
When the boat came home
You can find the last part here
The beach was basking in the golden sunshine sunset. Pinks and golds, lavenders and yellows, all played their way across the sand. And the little stream, that ran over pebbles and trickled between small rocks, made it’s way down the beach and into the ocean.
At the top edge of the beach the fire warmed the darkening night sky, and you could hear the sound of people’s laughter. As the boat people made their way up towards the fire, a guitar could be heard, and people were dancing. The dog, ears pointing to the sky, ran along side the children who were whooping and skipping their way towards the gathering. And a woman carrying fish with salty hands smiled, as she watched her children scampering and playing.
Soon the stars would be out, and they will all be snuggling around the fire, eating food and telling stories. And, if the rain were to come, they would simply pick up their things, and go inside someone’s home, no matter if there weren’t enough chairs for everyone. Then, as the evening crept onwards, eyes will start to find there way to sleep. And, there will be a deep hush across this village. This village by the sea.
Photo by Caleb Fisher – unsplash