22nd
Food for Thought
We had a bit of a dinner party tonight. Nothing special, just the usual suspects. It was a bit of an event, though, because it’s the first time we’ve made a proper dinner party type meal with all our own produce. Impressive, no?
We’ve come a long way. God, I remember when we first got the allotment. The brambles were over my head and it took a while to clear, and that first year all we managed were a ton of potatoes and a batch of onions. The bastard slugs ate my beans. Cut to ten years later and we’ve got three plots, growing enough stuff to actually feed us. Proper Tom and Barbara style.
We even had chicken tonight. I couldn’t bring myself to kill it, so my bigdamnhero stepped into the fray. I’ve got to say, the bird was good. They don’t have as much room to move as we’d like, but it’s enough to call them free range, just about.
I did a butternut squash soup to start - the squashes are a pain to grow, with all the water they need, but they’re lovely and sweet. Then the chicken, roasted with some of the wild garlic I found up on the Downs and brought back to the east plot. It’s really good. Not quite like cultivated garlic, but tasty. With the garlic and some rosemary (out of the garden, not the allotment). We had roast tatties and root veg on the side. And some nice green beans - the bloody slugs don’t get them any more. And then a berry compote and home made ice cream for afters. Ok, so I cheated slightly on the ice cream - we don’t exactly have the space for a cow, so I bought the milk. Everything else was grown with our own little, hands, though.
The wine wasn’t. I’ve never managed to get grapes growing properly, but I’ve found a nice little Sussex vintner who does a good drop. I’ll say one thing for the weather changes in the last few years - they have helped southern England’s vinyards. We finished off with a little of my homebrewed blackberry brandy, which was pretty damn good.
Good food, good company, and with everything being from the plots it got us talking about the old chestnut again. Self-sufficiency. We’ve being talking about it on and off for years - ever since Mongoose and I got the first allotment, really. We weren’t exactly going to live on the potatoes and onions we were growing back then, but I’ve always sort of loved the idea of just setting up a Pacific Dome in some secluded spot up on the downs with a sea view. A couple of wind turbines and maybe some solar panels to power it, so I wouldn’t have to worry about the power grid or the insane costs of buying electricity. A nice big veg plot, maybe with a greenhouse or two. Fresh, organic veg right on my doorstep. It’d take a lot of work, of course, but just think of it.
The simple life.
Tom and Barbara style. Except that I’m more Margo.
Mongoose would still be up for it, I think, and could probably twist Mr Mongoose’s arm. She was always organic this and food miles that. Still, even ten years on, I guess it’s mostly a pipe dream. I mean, what am I going to do, drop my life in town and just go off to live in the wilds. Can you get broadband in the wilds?
