16/07/14: Life lately #2

 I think that, in spite of certain arduous complications (ahem, no hot water, ahem), if I think that life is pretty good then it must be pretty good. Especially this past weekend that involved some much needed down time after a hectic few weeks in which  two days off together have been rare. The boyfriend was working on Saturday so I had the day to myself, scribbling on squared paper in the sunshine of my desk almost all morning (see my last post on a new source of inspiration) with homemade granola & plenty of tea. After a lunch of leftover chickpea curry I jumped on my bicycle, Fernando, & peddled down to Columbia Road at about three o'clock, prime time to snap up some bargain blooms. Peonies are my absolute favourite of flowers, their petals a little rougher around the edges than your average rose & those deceptively tightly balled buds slowly bursting into that unmistakable fragrance, but even though the season was later this year because of the rain, I was beginning to worry that I wouldn't be able to get any. Luckily, my fears were unfounded & I was soon wheeling my bicycle back in the direction of Haggerston Park with an armful of three bunches (two pink, one white) of the flowers for a mere ten pounds. Accompanied by an iced coffee & my book of Katherine Mansfield's short stories, I spent a very happy couple of hours in the isle of calm that Haggerston Park has always provided when London Fields has, err, not. It was down to Brick Lane that I cycled come six o'clock to meet Andrew from a long day at work & we wandered lazily home for the World Cup final which I will shamelessly admit was about the third match I'd watched of the tournament. Still, Deutschland über alles!

Monday soon rolled around (I did say that my weekends have always been slightly skewed!) & after a languorous morning spent reading & grudgingly getting dressed, Andrew & I decided on a similarly serene afternoon in St. James' park. I had had the idea of going to see the thoroughly exciting new exhibit on on Virginia Woolf at the National Portrait Gallery (last time I was there it was for David Bailey, remember?) but the weather was just too nice (read: sunshine) for me to consider lurking in the shadows, even for my most favourite of writers - another day, no doubt. So instead we picnicked on pretzels, nectarines, raspberries & blueberries while reading our books in the sunshine & getting freckled knees until gone six o'clock. Almost unbelievably neither of us had yet had the chance to see the new Foyles on Charing Cross Road so ambled up there through a bustling Trafalgar Square. While it will doubtless take more than one visit to get a sense of the place & rid of my sentimental attachment to the old premises, the new shop is doubtless something to behold - an open central atrium with plenty of light &, on this occasion, sun, the smell of fresh paint that lingers, displays of beautiful editions zig-zagging with the staircases up & up & up.I somehow

escaped with a little literary pamphlet (that, okay okay, featured Lydia Davis whom I have not finished fangirling for yet) called 'The Next Review' which I've already read almost cover to cover & the latest 'Chickpea Magazine', a vegan quarterly whose photographs & content are always, without exception, delectable.

 The two of us were reluctant to abandon the warm, summer's evening but soon resigned ourselves to tiredness (& my 7:30am alarm set for the next day, yawn)  & were soon home to rigatoni with ricotta & big broad beans from this week's Growing Communities vegetable bag. My signing up to the scheme has been something of a learning curve, I've got more vegetables to collect tomorrow without having cooked everything from this week's bag & I'm making gradual progress in thinking about a more organic assembly of my meals i.e escaping the 'meat & two veg' mentality of my childhood. Still, I'm finding myself so satisfied with the vegetables themselves, their freshness & quality as well as the feeling of connectedness that they give me, & I've cooked some delicious dishes this last week or so - Kitsunetsuki's beetroot risotto, from-scratch bean burgers with plenty of spring onions (both in such a natural form as I've ever encountered!) & griddled carrots, heaps of Hackney Salad alongside veggie kievs & roasted cherry tomatoes. I've the latter left from this week that I'll mix into a chilli non carne & then there's a bountiful bunch of swiss chard to stir into a potato curry, I reckon.

I think it's likely that I'll note down a few of these recipe ideas for the boyfriend as I'm, dun dun duuuun, off on holiday next week! To tell the truth, this time next week I will actually be in Rome with a handful of family, spending a few days there followed by a couple in Sorrento & Capri & I could not be more excited. Aside from the good company I am looking forward to lots of walking in the city, the sunshine, the books, the opportunity to dust down my SLR lens &, of course, the food which I plan to savour at every meal - from Italian coffee & pastries to burrata & basil salad to an improbable amount of pasta. Needless to say, this will all be documented in my notebook & later, here on this blog so do check back. I'm no where near organised enough as far as packing lists go but I think my reading materials of choice will be the latest issue of 'The New Yorker', a pinched copy of my Mum's 'The Infatuations' by Javier Marias & the topical (well, Venice isn't too far off) 'Journey by Moonlight' by Antal Szerb.

For now, I'm going to busy myself with a long-awaited spaghetti alla puttanesca & listen to the rest of this podcast from Shakespeare & Co. of Lydia Davis (yes, her again) reading from her wonderful new collection 'Can't & Won't' - you should too!

Speak soon - O.  

15/07/14: The Opposite of Loneliness

I hadn't planned on writing a blog post today but I feel as if it's been something of a significant Tuesday.
I read a lot at work (occupational hazard of booksellers, I admit), mostly recipe books & first pages of novels, occasionally a short story during a particularly rainy afternoon, all things that are always enjoyed but not necessarily remembered. Today was different. I had read about Marina Keegan before, likely in the American press although I can't remember with any clarity the circumstances of this discovery. I do remember being struck by her story, that verb being apt given the real shock of what actually happened - a bright undergraduate student at Yale & aspiring writer, between graduating from college & starting a job at 'The New Yorker', is killed in a car crash at the age of twenty two. I'm twenty two. What incredible, inexplicable tragedy. It wasn't, however, until an encounter with the book of posthumous (posthumous!) writing she left behind that I felt the force of this sadness that has left a hollow in my chest. This is particularly true as my feelings weren't always so ambiguous - I thought, however cynically, of the impossibility of really knowing the quality of the writing in the light of its dark context, of the undoubted parallels between Marina Keegan & the girls I disliked at school & university because I envied them - the ambitious, opportunity creating & fulfilling, optimistic & successful.


A first look at the cover of 'The Opposite of Loneliness' dispels these feelings almost instantly - a young girl stands in a park with cuffs pulled over her wrists & balled into her palms, eyes level & face smiling & the potential & the future that she already represents is haunting. This continues throughout this slim but vital volume during which Marina writes engagingly, in fiction & non-fiction, on themes of the fragility of hope, of the importance of achieving 'the opposite of loneliness'. In these pages, a girl so unlike myself, talked me around to this impatience for and anticipation of all that awaits her in life with the knowledge of her seemingly arbitrary and senseless death only increasing their poignancy. The dust jacket is covered with laudatory quotes from adoring professors &, while further testament to her promise, Marina says all that she needs to in her own words. They make me feel newly determined to make the most of every opportunity, to flip the 'v's at food intolerances, to be curious about the world around me, to fill more & more pages of my notebook (more & more pages of this blog) with whatever is important to me & to have the self belief that enabled her to graduate from an Ivy League college without the dread of unemployment or unhappiness.

So, Marina Keegan, I might not change the world with the knowledge of your relentless optimism or dedicate myself to your legacy but right after I finished that final page, I scribbled a list of things that I want to write about soon to make an impression on the world & I think you'd be okay with that too.
Read the titular essay here & I hope you feel that it changes you too.

Speak soon - O.

05/07/14: Joining 'Growing Communities'

I've really outdone myself today. Being as admittedly apathetic as I am most of the time, I feel it's important to acknowledge that I've gotten an unprecedented amount done today. Y'see, a dear friend of mine is moving to Berlin on Sunday so we thought it only right to congregate for a number of farewell drinks last night, a plan that quickly descended into drinking Smirnoff Ices (yepp) & dancing around pool tables to Justin Timberlake at almost two o'clock. I was quite prepared for today to be a write-off. I have, however, since crawling out of the depths of bed at midday, done a load of laundry, swept the kitchen, been to 'Sainsbury's', washed up & made a batch of homemade granola, all of which have made me feel a lot more human than having to wash my hair in the sink this morning. Mm.

 Amongst all of this uncharacteristic productivity was my also remembering to write this blog post about...joining Growing Communities, hooray! For those not in the know, Growing Communities is a 'social enterprise' of local, East London people that run a box scheme of weekly, organic, sustainable & locally grown vegetables. Since really committing to vegetarian cooking, I've often found myself reading up on various companies that offer vegetable boxes & been umm-ing & aah-ing about whether they would be affordable or worthwhile. I went through a phase of buying all of my fruit & veg from Ridley Road Market & was amazed at how much cheaper it was compared to the supermarket but that kind of shopping unfortunately no longer fits into my weekly routine. It was one afternoon walking past the allotment where they grow the 'Hackney Salad' below followed by a nudge from Ava of Guac & Roll that I decided to go ahead & sign up.

Opting for a weekly 'standard no potatoes' bag (I figured potatoes & onions are amongst the cheapest & easiest to supplement), Growing Communities were so pleasant & helpful at every juncture - answering emails on everything from being able to opt out if I wasn't totally sold to when I would be able to collect my first bag. Cities can feel like big, anonymous places where these feelings of genuine community can be hard to come by but I know that I, at least, get a real sense of fulfilment when knowing that I'm investing in my local area. It also works out at just over a fiver a week each for my boyfriend & I which is an undoubted saving on what we would usually spend in the first two aisles of Sainsbury's.

So what's in the bag? This week, a huge bag of luscious spinach, a perfumed pouch of fresh basil, an eccentric bunch of vibrant beetroot & green garlic (the latter of which I've never tried!), a couple of paper bags of mushrooms & cherry tomatoes & 'Hackney Salad' that I'm looking forward to piling into work-day sandwiches. I'll admit that it's going to be a big change & one that will take a bit of adapting but this is all for the better - using fresh, seasonal produce in my cooking, being less reliant on rice or pasta as the base of any dish, eating less meat substitutes & more real & nutritious foods. Oh, & knowing that 85% of the vegetables I received this week were grown the UK, brilliant! I'm also hoping that starting from ingredients rather than recipes will be make me a better cook, a more creative, thoughtful & instinctive one, although we'll wait & see.

I'm already eyeing up Kitsunetsuki Kitchen's beetroot, basil & roasted garlic risotto & then there's this evening's hot chickpea & spinach curry that'll make sure I sweat out the rest of these toxins, blargh.

What do you make of the 'Growing Communities' scheme?

Do you know what to do with green garlic?!

Speak soon - O.