I’m making soup. A whatever’s-in-the-garden soup – today’s random combination.
Potatoes lifted in autumn and stored in crates. Parsnips and carrots dug just earlier this morning. Curly kale picked fresh from the garden – so hardy, it continues to grow new leaves regardless of the winter weather. And leeks : thank heavens for the onion family – theres’s one for every season
Dicing and slicing, J steals away chunks to eat raw: the aroma and taste are so bound up with the idea of winter, the memories and associations, with scenes from Silas Marner or Under The Greenwood Tree. Or my own childhood. Me too, says J.
Winter foods. Grown slowly, accumulating memories of the passing seasons, memories released and relived in the digging, cleaning, preparing, cooking – and eating. We take time. We find time. The more we give, the more we get back. Slow-food is Time-food – and Time’s an ingredient we’ll never find on the supermarket shelves.
There is a richness, a completeness, a peace and fulfillment in winter foods. Thank heavens for seasons!
Thank heavens for Denise’s Slow Soup!