06/06/15: US Photo Diary, New York, New York

As promised, here are a handful of the hundreds of photographs that I took during the three days(!) that we were in New York on my trip to the US a couple of months ago. Following an enormous breakfast burrito & the inevitable buying of 'VIRGINIA' t-shirts big enough to sleep in, we said our goodbyes to my brother & his wife & were headed back to Washington in a rental car, Louis C.K. stand-up on my headphones. From D.C we flew to Colorado for another twelve days - we were up early, skiing from eight until four, reading in the bath until seven & finding some decent vegetarian food for the rest of the day. While Vail has its own undoubtable beauty that you can see here, I've got to admit that I was already looking ahead to New York, one of my favourite cities, & the two days that me & my kid sister would have on our own there. 

We stopped off at Top of the Rock & wandered around a sunny Central Park with my Dad for our last day together. On the first of those two days solo Sofia & I walked a 20 mile round trip to Williamsburg from our Manhattan hotel, over the bridge, down Bedford Avenue & back across the river for pizza in the East Village & a sunburnt & blistered 30 blocks back. The second was spent taking it easy, making the trip to Strand Books, a handful of vintage shops & a final Five Guys before grudgingly getting our coach to the airport home. Thanks for everything, NYC & see you again soon. 

- O.

03/06/15: US Photo Diary, Washington D.C & Virginia

Hi & welcome to the first of a few photo diaries from my what-feels-like-forever-ago trip to the States. We begin in an eye-wateringly cold Washington D.C in which blossom season is still a long way off but during which we kept warm snooping around the aviation museum, in search of Shake Shack, thrifting around Georgetown University & eating pizza with my kid sister once my Dad's fallen asleep in our hotel room. It was then onward on an Amtrak train to a balmy Virginia to catch up with my big brother, his new wife & two labradors. We spent our three sunny days there exploring in the woods, eating some pretty decent vegan food (hello tofu scramble at the Bluegrass Grill, mmhmm), walking around downtown Charlottesville & it's many secondhand bookstores (university towns ftw!) & driving up to the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Oh & I've skipped out on a recounting of the afternoon spent sobbing in Terminal 3, three hours in a customs queue & two hours sleep in a Long Island hotel before all of this occurred. You're welcome.

Next stop New York! 

- O.

06/05/15: Dishing up daily #3

Oh hi! Long time no speak, huh?

So, as I may well have mentioned in my previous post many moons ago, I've had a bit of time adventuring Stateside - a couple of days in D.C, another two in Charlottesville, Virginia, just over a week in Vail, Colorado & a precious few days in New York before heading home. All of those adventures will be duly documented here but unfortunately I've been beset by an essay deadline since I touched down in London town so haven't had a moment to collect my thoughts (or really, being honest, admit that it's over)

As befits the eponymous 'beet' of The Beet Generation I thought I would instead do a culinary round up of what I've been cooking since I got home to my kitchen. Travelling is always a joy with its opportunity to explore new places & people (& tofu scramble in Virginia, oh my) but so too is coming back home to my boyfriend & a big ol' meal plan for the next few days ahead.

Okay, so I can explain this first photograph. You may well be thinking - wait a minute, Olivia, you've told us that you've just gotten back from America, do you honestly think that you been deprived of pizza? Ha! As if. Far from. I'm willing to admit that I might even have gotten a little pizza-dependent. My intention here was a means of weaning myself off of the stuff. It started with this cauliflower crust. This was a labour of love. Actually, scratch that. This was a labour of oh-my-god-this-is-going-in-the-bin-right-now-I'm-making-spaghetti. Or rather yet another realisation of  oh-my-god-just-buy-a-food-processor-already. I used something of a mix between this recipe from Lisa of That's Food Darling &, quelle surprise, that from Anna Jones' A Modern Way To Eat, featured here. Following an arduous hour or so spent finely chopping a head of cauliflower, cramping up & then painstakingly immersion blending it a tablespoon at a time, the batter eventually came together into something I could at least press into the edges of the pan. The oats & ground almonds that Anna suggests definitely help to crisp up the base while it blind bakes & you can get your toppings (favourite bit!) going. I've now made this recipe twice & I'm starting to get a sense of its any-night-of-the-week ease - a soft, sweet crust with a crisp edge, a rich tomato sauce, plenty of melted mozzarella & artichokes that fall apart as you lift the from the jar, delicious.

Elsewhere, given the volume of sweet potato & leafy greens that I've been eating, I guess you can say that I successfully weaned myself off of a predominantly ALL-OF-THE-CARBS diet that I enjoyed while on holiday. (I was skiing, okay? I needed all of the help I could get!) Alongside an expensive amount of raw almonds that came to fill the pockets of all of my jackets, I got to thinking about study snacks once I got home to, err, 6,000 words that needed writing. This beautifully simple recipe from Nigel Slater (i.e the old faithful) came to be cooked up & spooned into jars, often eaten hurriedly in library corridors but always savoured as something wholesome & nourishing in the midst of it all. 

As if I just couldn't get enough of it in that pizza up there ^^, cauliflower has featured elsewhere on my table this last week, roasted with a dash of cayenne pepper & served with coconut quinoa (absolute revelation & soon-to-be-regular-feature, for sure) as per this recipe from Cookie & Kate. The addition of sultanas to the coconut milk & quinoa gave the dish an added sweetness that offset the spice of the cauliflower perfectly. Cardamom is another flavour that I'm just discovering & that I was pleased to see in this ingredients list. 

& last, but by no means least (just wait until the dressing, seriously) - last night was the turn of Minimalist Baker & this recipe for her sweet potato chickpea buddha bowl. It was so easy to put together - sweet potatoes, tenderstem broccoli, red onion & kale roasted in my biggest pan & then piled into bowls with spiced chickpeas & drizzled with an incredible maple/tahini sauce. I also don't know how it is that I've never pan-fried chickpeas before, only ever stirring them into stock or chopped tomatoes, but they were so crisp & moreish that I'd happily eat it all again. Right now. Please.

So, what've you been dishing up lately?

& are you as much of a sweet potato fiend as me? I doubt it!

Speak soon - O. 

12/03/15: Life Lately #5

Ava of Guac & Roll recently wrote about, at least in part, the trouble of writing posts when too much time has gone by, when your blog no longer becomes a representation of everything that has gone on, when there is just too much to recount in the space of a few paragraphs. I must admit that I have the opposite problem with what feels like too little going on for me to consider it 'worthy' of writing a blog post. The truth is that I've not been leaving the house much in between working at the bookshop & spending time in my university library.

I've come to realise, however, that 'The Beet Generation' wasn't something that I started with the sole intention of documenting my wildest adventures but to keep a note of everyday life - what I've been putting together by way of meals, predominantly, but also what books have been found dog-eared-ly at the bottom of my satchel, what I've managed to dig out at the Oxfam at the bottom of my road & any other thoughts rattling around in this head of mine. Living what often feels like something of a sedentary life of two days of work & just two hours of a poetry seminar a week, this blog also helps to lend significance to what otherwise can feel like insignificant tasks that often make up my everyday - reading up on new recipes, cobbling together outfits & scribblings in my notebook. I've spent a little too much time in the company of my head lately & that hasn't proved especially useful for my wellbeing. Consider this as me saying HELLO WORLD! I EXIST OUTSIDE OF MYSELF!  Ahem. Onto the food then, eh?

Cooking

As the weather starts to brighten at long last - thank goodness - I've been considering that I'm likely to have a hard time giving up on the indulgent winter dishes that I've been making. You know what I mean: creamy risottos, generous portions of vegetable pie, a pot of soup always on the stove. I think I find this type of cooking more satisfying with its connotations of comfort & heartiness although that could also be my greedy tendencies creeping in. I've been moving (albeit grudgingly) away from the cassoulets & towards lighter pasta dishes of lemon & avocado & thanks to Cookie & Kate's monthly produce guide, I can't actually deny that there's a lot to be looking forward to - asparagus & cauliflower & mushrooms, oh my! That's not to say that I didn't click into the sidebar & make a batch of her delicious lentil soup, however. Hey, so long as there's that chill in the air & I can't leave house without a vest, there will be soup. 

In my enduring attempt to cook with less fake meats (she says following last night's bangers & mash, whoops), I've also been consciously including more grains in my cooking that extend beyond porridge for breakfast. Checking in with Alex of In Vegetables We Trust, his recipe for a buckwheat bolognaise caught my eye &, err, stomach as the ideal substitute for Quorn. I've only cooked with buckwheat once before, failing to soak the groats & eating them in a disappointingly flavourless porridge, so thought it was about time I gave them a second chance. I couldn't be more glad that I did as I can see this bolognaise making it into regular rotation in my house - the buckwheat cooked through deliciously in a tomato-ey mix of chopped toms, passata & puree mixed in with chestnut mushrooms & plenty of garlic. Thanks Al!

Reading

Sat on a lunch break this afternoon surrounded by people I could & would gladly have made conversation with, I had my nose in a book. Cheese & chutney toastie balanced in one hand & spine spread in the other, I realised that I could tell I soon had an essay to write, I've been trying to fit in as much extra-curricular reading as possible before I surrender myself to the desert of literary criticism that inevitably awaits. Today's book was the final few chapters of Pushkin Press' 'Red Love: The Story of an East German Family' by Maxim Leo. I studied German for just short of a decade at school & have always loved the idea of spending a stint in Berlin to where my housemate has just moved. Despite the evident marks that history has left on the city, I find myself ignorant of a lot of its cultural context. This book, a family memoir at heart, recounts the human history of Communism & the Berlin Wall, predominantly through the frame of the author's towering grandfathers. Engaging & enlightening, I've loved learning about this period which lies in the astonishingly recent past & it makes me want to visit the city again having read this brilliant book. I have borrowed Jenny Offil's 'Dept. of Speculation' from the library to read next following urgent appraisals from many colleagues & enjoyed the latest Granta from the same publishers that took India as its subject, a country still vastly unknown to me but brilliantly captured through their array of voices. 

Hanging out 

This one is still very much a part of my life & we've been trying to make time for one another as he in particular chips away at university work. Dinner is obviously a good opportunity for this but we took out last Saturday to wander down to Broadway Market & have a snoop at the stalls. Lately we've been able to look ahead to a little trip away for the boy's birthday in August & watch a lot of 'Mad Men'. Yepp, still hooked.

I've also had the chance to see my friend Liz over from Paris (not all of my mates are this cosmopolitan, honest) for a bleak but beautiful walk across the eponymous Finsbury Park & drink an irresponsible amount while playing pool with my seminar group. It really improves my game.

What've you been doing lately?

Speak soon (I mean it this time!) - O.

12/02/15: The Horniman Museum & Gardens

I've always found leaving the house to be a bit more of a gamble in our capital than in, say, my native Bedfordshire. You can never be sure of TFLs honesty in their proffering of a 'good service', it can be difficult to predict the proximity to which you'll experience the National Gallery's latest (portraits by John Singer Sargent, by the way although I've not yet had the chance to go) & then there's the universal likelihood of having to retreat indoors for fear of frozen fingers or soggy sandwiches. I must admit that I was a little suspect of the sunshine that cast its shadows over my morning cuppa this Sunday (how apt) just gone but I decided that I would take the chance & make some plans. Y'see, I managed about a week of wellness between colds & after failed attempts at 'recuperation' (read: incubation) I thought it worth trying to exorcise my demons in the fresh air (or at least attempt to pass them onto all of the small children swarming around this particular destination) 

I must admit that although I knew of the Horniman Museum & Gardens as a fabled place tucked up away in Forest Hill just south of the New Cross that I, however reluctantly, called home for a year but had somehow never made the trip. It was Dulcie of Human Sea's blog post that recalled it to mind & I thought that it would be the perfect place to venture on my own & finally make a round trip to Goldsmiths Library (even?) more educational than usual. So it was onto the overground just after noon that I made my way on Sunday, bundled up in a chunky cable knit & with scarf wound around my coat, Paris Review slung into a tote bag for good measure. The bracing walk from the station proved fruitful as I inevitably couldn't resist a peek into the Sue Ryder en route & emerged with a thick, jersey ASOS dress with low back that I'm looking forward to layering with stripes. As I shudder at the thought of bralettes under my blanket at home with hot tea within reach, it's worth mentioning that this particular Sunday was so blissfully warm & bright that I had dug my hands out of my pockets & filled one with my hat by the time I reached the museum, convinced of the benefits of some south-of-the-river air.

The Horniman was exactly as I had hoped: old-fashioned, quaint, wondrous & a touch spooky. I spent the best part of an hour wandering slowly from case to case from familiar monkey skeletons to elephant skulls to the ribcages of birds. There were kangaroos, alligators, monkeys, armadillos (not holiday ones, to my knowledge), turtles, ostriches & vultures with the models quite difficult to tell apart from the real ones, only obvious in case of scale. I felt most attracted to the birds although I am quite frightened of them, to tell the truth & spent an eerie five minutes resolutely staring into the face of a particularly keen-eyed vulture. Their feet were almost as big as mine. I've always had something of a fascination with taxidermy (i.e never able to resist peering through the grates of 'Get Stuffed' at the top of Essex Road) & the ability to study such a number of creatures at such close range meant that my curiosity was certainly satisfied. It was at this point that I suspected my snottiness might be holding sway after all & decided on retiring to a bench with a cup of coffee & a pear packed by way of a picnic. As the name might suggest, Forest Hill provides you with a view of whole swathes of London including the Shard from bottom to top. Truth be told, I was happy to sit in the sun & contentedly consider whether to take off my coat. Oh happy day indeed.

I won't take my current bobble hat-tedness as a signal of failure. I'll just look forward to even more sunny days like these, even if part of them are spent in the shade of that infamous stuffed walrus.

Have you visited the Horniman?

Speak soon - O.

05/02/15: Literary lately #5 feat. Ben Lerner & Lorrie Moore

I'm having one of those days during which I just completely fail to get it together. Okay, week. Okay, month. I'm still holding out hope that it'll happen one of these days though & it might just start here. You never can tell.

You'd also be forgiven for thinking that I don't read a lot of books for someone who works in a bookshop & has named her blog after a group of 1950s poets (/one of her favourite root vegetables) You'll have to take my word for it that I have been reading books but without, err, writing about reading those books. My last dedicated literary lately post was, to my shame, aaaall the way back in August when I was immersed in the Lydia Davis collection that I got for Christmas (some things don't change) & the less sunshine-y Albert Camus. Since then I've written an essay on the former & finished one whole quarter of my MA degree that I started back in August, as well as starting on another: 20th Century American Poetry. Accordingly, I have been reading a lot of dry 1990s literary criticism borrowed from the library on the likes of Theodore Roethke & A. R. Ammons to established the free verse/formalist traditions at the heart of modern American poetry. Four weeks in & we're finally getting into the more intriguing figures such as Elizabeth Bishop & Robert Lowell, Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath & John Ashbery. My seminars are just two hours a week so I've no excuses not to pore over the chapters in anthologies on Lowell & the luridly lilac cover of Anne Sexton's 'The Awful Rowing Toward God'. The time spent establishing these poets in contexts both critical & biographical I've found to be very valuable when it comes to contributing in class.

That said, not having to read two novels in the space of five days also leaves me with a lot to consider outside of the syllabus. There's something of a buzz around Ben Lerner, one no doubt causing long-term fans to heave a heavy 'at long last', as he's brought out his second novel '10:04' by the ever-brilliant Granta Books. I got to talking to one of these fanatics in my seminar who urged me to read his first 'Leaving The Atocha Station', the story of a young poet on a fellowship in Spain. I went straight to the library following our seminar that day & disturbed a considerable number of people as I laughed & grimaced my way through its length & took it home with me to finish before bed. Lerner has a wry wit that I recognise in the work of other American authors such as Lorrie Moore & A.M Homes & his view of human relationships is similarly astute. From the protagonist's delusional belief that his Spanish language deficiency lends him profound mystique to his repeated failings to comprehend the world that he views from the roof of his apartment, often with a joint in hand, 'Leaving The Atocha Station' has such a distinctive voice & hopelessly unsympathetic speaker that left me surprised at having enjoyed it so much. I've already earmarked a copy of his latest to nab from a friend.

'Insofar as I was interested in the arts, I was interested in the disconnect between my experience of actual artworks and the claims made on their behalf; the closest I'd come to having a profound experience of art was probably the experience of this distance, a profound experience of the absence of profundity.'

The other novel that I've been reading in between poems for class is from the aforementioned Lorrie Moore & titled ' The Gate At The Stairs'. Having become belatedly possessed by her (I now realise) well-known shorter fiction, I was interested to see whether her style would carry over a significantly larger amount of pages. Suffice to say that it did. Described as 'set in the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks' & depicting the story of a 'twenty-year old Midwestern woman's coming of age', I was so captivated by this character, Tassie, in whom I saw so many shades of myself. Through the prism of Tassie's college education & it's varying fluctuations of vacation & term time, the novel charts her encounters with a harsh world outside of that she's inhabited from childhood - becoming entangled in the lives of the family she serves as nanny for, enduring a failed love affair & reconciling her lives at home & away from it. Moore's descriptions of temperamental or precarious domestic arrangements & the listlessness of higher education & its reasonably small lack of demand on your time, most of the time, really resonated with me.

'On the night table there sat some mint tea that had been steeping there since morning, stone cold and medicinally brown. I sipped a little, its soggy bag falling against my mouth; then I gargled and drank the rest.'

I have a couple of my favourite literary journals to be reading in spare moments: the latest issue of Granta that features India (an exceedingly under-explored area both in my study of geography & literature) & the latest from The Paris Review that features some pieces from Karl Ove Knausgaard. Now to actually read them & not indulge my ridiculous habit of delayed gratification.

Have you read any Ben Lerner or Lorrie Moore?

What've you been reading lately?
Speak soon - O.

15/01/15: Dishing up daily #2

Has it been collectively decided just how long the hangover from Christmas should last? Whatever the date, I've believe it should be extended. I still feel stuck in a slump as I endeavour to transition from the utter sloth of the festive period to the 'hello 2015!' that I should surely have rejoiced by now as I type this on the fifteenth of the month. I suppose I could just be being hard on myself. I have managed to plan, write & submit that 6,000 word essay I confessed to having been avoiding for several weeks on end. That deadline was only this Monday just gone - cue celebratory bottle of wine & a Sean Lock stand-up DVD that evening, oh boy - so my kitchen habits have also been seeking to plug the gap. Long afternoons indoors trying not to succumb to cabin fever while poring over Sartre has also equalled lunches of leftovers or whatever else I can scavenge from the depths of the fridge.

So first up is a dish whose colour alone should be enough to banish any lingering fatigue & it is in the form of bright beetroot humuus. During one of, ahem, fits of procrastination I bought an app for almost certainly the first time in my life - an investment from the couple behind Green Kitchen Stories. Beautifully designed, simple to use & periodically updated with new, seasonal recipes, it's been a complete revelation. Shortly after downloading it, I whipped up this batch of tahini-creamy beetroot humuus that I've since been spreading on bagels, adding to the (too frequent) cheese board & most recently stirring into leftover pasta with leaves & seeds by way of a library packed lunch. With its bulbs packed full of fibre & anti-oxidants, it's been something of a pick-me-up when that caffeine slump has hit.

It was to another fast-becoming-old-faithful that I turned for this next quick dish, A Thought For Food, a fresh chard & roasted garlic pesto. I've gotten into the habit of popping a foil-wrapped bulb of garlic in the oven whenever it's on roasting or toasting & I was lucky to have one in reserve for this pesto. Made the day ahead for the convenience of one straight from the jar, I was very keen to be able to christen my new pestle & mortar in grinding together the smokiness of the garlic cloves, the sweetness of warm almonds & huge chard leaves stripped from their stems. I've made it again since, leftovers spread on toast, & already have this more indulgent sweet potato gratin on my list to cook next - thank you Brian!

Luckily, on my more productive days of late, I was able to plan ahead with the added help of my stack of Guardian 'Cook' supplements that await sticking into my recipe scrapbook. One issue of top 10 recipes - what must've been weeks ago now - included kale & it was from that list that I nabbed this final dish, albeit adapted for the ailing savoy cabbage in my vegetable draw. It was this pearl barley stew that I simmered with shredded leaves & my favourite veggie sausages one evening that made it worth planning ahead for. The creamy, starchiness of the grain with the spice of the sausage & preserved crunch of the leaves along with lots of black pepper -a dish I'll definitely be making again.

I've got a busy few days ahead of me working at the bookshop & then being home for a few days to help with the move so it's using up the last of the chard in this chard risotto from In Vegetables We Trust tonight before another week's meals are scribbled on my train home.

What've you been dishing up lately? 

Speak soon - O. 

05/01/15: Life lately #4

So here I am again & with a lot of time between me & the last of these posts so hopefully with lots to share. I thought I would save assorted cooking & baking for another post seeing as there're a lot of new recipes that I've tried since the new year (five days in, I'd say that that was a good effort) especially given the foodie gifts that I received over Christmas time including a particularly special pestle & mortar(!) More on that later. For now, here's where I've been hanging out, what I've been thrifting & who I've been reading of late.

Hanging out

Apart from an extended stint back at the homestead of late, opposite this good looker is where you would have found me last night until, err, later than we'd both planned on really. Andrew & I didn't break with tradition in our waking up too late to make it to Chatsworth Road Market but wound our way to Clapton yesterday afternoon bundled up in hats & coats to grab some good coffee & inevitably the inimitable veggie roast at The Clapton Hart come three thirty. Yesterday was ultimately all about that porcini mushroom & chestnut roast with a pint of cider in the other hand & a copy of the Observer reviews section by way of a placemat. The university library reopened today so I like to think that this was our big send off before we're both back to the books. At least for the next few weeks it'll be over bowls of soup until I start my 20th Century American Poetry course (cmon!) & have to head home to help my Mum move house once & for all. I've always been a bit of a hermit by nature so it's not all bad. Plus, y'know, soup. 

Thrifting

London is undoubtedly a haven for vintage lovers, I'd be the first to admit, but sometimes it's good to flex your thrifting muscles outside of town. Going home for Christmas provided me with the perfect excuse to do just that & I made a date with my Grandy to pay a belated visit to one of our favourite vintage emporiums in St. Albans, Fleetville. After a pot of tea & half a toasted teacake each, it was a couple of hours of rummaging through carpet bags,mismatched earrings & terrible, terrible 80s vinyl (I live in hope of a Pixies album lurking amongst it all but not yet!) I emerged with this beautiful bottle green button-up dress with dainty lace collar, a reliable ex-M&S number that fits like a glove. I

also lucked out on a lovely flannel skirt in a colourful checked pattern (left below) that sits perfectly on my waist & has already been worn with a thick turtleneck & cable knit jumper. The other similar pattern shown is that of a brighter hued dress that my Grandy has had hanging in her wardrobe for a number of years - a worn in, loosely sleeved shirt dress that I adore worn with a belt & ankle boots seeing as it sits in the middle of my calves. Thank you, G!

Reading

Unfortunately, as I might've mentioned here & have definitely moaned on about on Twitter, I've got an essay to be writing (not avoiding, Olivia) so the books that I've been reading have corresponded with that i.e dense literary criticism & not especially festive 'The Plague' by Albert Camus. I did, however, remember the battered copy of Jeanette Winterson's memoir 'Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?' that I left at home & absent-mindedly picked up by way of bathtime reading. What a wonder it was & particularly poignant for providing a sense of perspective on neurotic family members(!) I found that she wrote with such clarity on the agony of growing up & finding your voice as an artist, her fragile negotiation of the two evidently testament to the strength of her spirit. I have read shamefully little else of what she's written ('Written On The Body' was a set text of mine but fell in the middle of portfolio assembling madness) but would love to having been introduced over Christmas. Otherwise, it's been a case of a handful of Lydia Davis' short stories having received the collected edition that is a real joy to own & the entries in my new Frankie diary - my third consecutive one & they just keep getting more lovely. I've also been reading about what's to look forward to this coming literary year & have fittingly bookmarked Kim Gordon's much-anticipated memoir coming out in February & a reissue of Lydia Davis' only novel in March along with the forth volume of Karl Ove Knausgaard's 'My Struggle' series (yepp, still pushing it on anyone who'll listen & even a few that won't)

Watching & listening
Staying with the theme of quarter-life angst, it's to the boxset of Lena Dunham's 'Girls' that I've turned in recent days. I've also read her collection of essays of late, 'Not That Kind Of Girl', & it made me reassured that, even amongst the critics, there is a young, creative woman being heard & valued. All hail.
Elsewhere I've been very, very belatedly listening to a lot of Sonic Youth loudly (sorry-not-sorry fellow house mates) & wishing that I had Kim Gordon's kick-ass scream &, err, legs.
All hail.

What've you been doing lately?
Kicking your heels?
Let me know!
Speak soon - O.

01/01/15: Merry Christmas, Happy New Year & beyond

Merry Christmas! Joyeux Noel! Happy New Year! Auld Lang Syne! etc. etc. I have always held traditions & rituals close to my heart & especially at this time of year when both are in abundant supply - Christmas cannot pass without terrible television & eating all of the cheese. Unfortunately I find it very difficult to write without being able to, err, write which has been the case of late & particularly in the last couple of weeks (hello typing-with-one-hand over here) An RSI injury that pre-dates this blog & my undergraduate degree decided to resurface just lately, be it due to the excess of sanity-saving scribbling in my notebook or the mountains of sprouts that I've had to peel & score over the last fortnight, my left wrist has swollen massively & left me crucially unable to either write or unscrew a jar of capers. Both I & my doctors, albeit secretly, suspected it's down to my 'gifted' left-handedness but it's been an occasional agony for the worst part of five years & despite two steroid injections into the tendon in my wrist, my relationship with Deep Freeze is going strong. The pain is worse than ever this time around, often keeping me awake & always having me frustrated, inevitably at a time when I'm in need of the eternal confidante of my notebook more than ever.

Christmas was alright. Certain traditions weren't upheld, others have changed entirely, the child within me who often surfaces in my mum's presence wasn't best pleased at this, to say the least I sense that home for me has changed quite irrevocably for me & that's something that I won't be able to settle with myself for a long while. I know that I should take the opportunity as an incentive to make more of a life for myself, independently, in London as I've been attempting or at least pretending to do for going on six years now. This last couple of weeks have been lonely & exhausting & recur to me in a montage of crawling into bed with my little sister at ten o'clock & staring at the chipped bathroom ceiling of my childhood home that will only be ours for another three weeks. Perhaps I could take a positive from this, given a better mood than this one.

Take this as an out-of-office for another week or so while I try to get a doctor's appointment & convince myself that such intense pain in my writing hand isn't my body's attempt to make me shut up but to get it to speak a little louder.

I'll be back soon enough having written that 6,000 word essay that has been looming with a round-up of mine & aforementioned sister's festive bakes, recent reads & a clearer view of the horizon.

Speak soon - O. 

12/12/14: Dishing up daily #1

I, like almost everyone else I know, am dosing up. Supping at a honey & lemon while considering a purchase of vitamin C & zinc tablets (the latest in a line of 'if you want to avoid getting ill you should...') As the lurgy inevitably closes in & essay planning reaches - excuse the pun - fever pitch, I still try to take comfort in cooking snug, wintry dishes that also contribute to the armour of my immune system. I've been taking full advantage of the weather having finally taken a colder turn (although I am wearing all of my clothes now so I'd rather it didn't get any colder) to cook up plenty of soups, stews & pies. Too many afternoons spent rattling a Heinz tin to retrieve the last cubed carrot, I recently decided that there was really no excuse for me not to have attempted to make soup from scratch.

Not only would I have the knowledge of every pinch that went into it but the ritual of my biggest pot blipping away for an hour or so on the hob appealed to me - roughly chopping root vegetables, crumbling stock cubes into boiling water & buttering bread to dunk into the puréed pulses, all while I could sit happily reading at the kitchen table. Lately I've tried the earthy celeriac & apple soup from my much-loved 'A Modern Way To Eat' by Anna Jones - initially just a little worried that I'd made an oversized batch of apple sauce ('the problem being...?' I hear you cry), I actually found the that sweetness of the apples balanced the liquorice undertones of the not-exactly-glamorous celeriac, topped off with an indulgent splash of brown butter & a handful of toasted hazelnuts. Mostly due to my mother's completely unfounded hatred of most root vegetables, I'd never tried celeriac before but it's certainly something I'd happily cook again, shredded into mash or made into soup.

Once all of the leftovers had been eaten up, I set about making a second batch of soup, this time from a recipe on one of my more recent discoveries in terms of food blogs, a delectably deep curried butternut squash soup from 'A Thought for Food'. I'm always looking for new ways of using butternut squash that isn't my usual polenta-crusted wedges served with veggie burritos & or folded into a split lentil dhaal like this favourite from Lisa of 'That's Food Darling'. Chopped & simmered in a generous selection of spices, the simplicity of the recipe surprised me in its depth of flavour: sweet, creamy & warming all at once. Topped with a dollop of tangy creme fraiche & a scattering of roasted seeds really made it for me not only on the day but also the two following.

 Spurred on by celeriac (not a phrase I thought I'd use all too often), it was more root vegetable recipes that I was seeking for the rest of the week which lead me to this recipe from, yes, Anna Jones & to the domination of my fridge by the three punnets of mushrooms, bundles of carrots, parsnips & swede that this pie called for. I spent almost three hours peeling, chopping & grating, boiling, blanching & baking but suffice to say that it was a labour of love. This rosti is essentially red onions, chestnut mushrooms, carrots & swede simmered in the creme fraiche I managed to resist spooning into my soup, white wine, wholegrain honeyed mustard & an amazing vegetarian alternative to Lea & Perrins' that Ava of 'Guac & Roll'  put me onto by the name of Mushroom Gravy. Praise be! This unsuspecting sauce is already making its way into toppings for cheese on toast & chilli non carne shortly & it something of a revelation for me. All of this was crowned with a crisp, thatched topping of grated parsnips that looked good & tasted even better.

I was so pleased with this last helping (no doubt evidenced in my continual 'it's alright this, isn't it?' nudges directed towards my boyfriend, ahem hem) that I'm considering making it for the Christmas dinner that I have in London before heading home. I've decided on lots of roasted vegetables & vegetarian stuffing of some description but my confidence has wavered in the face of researching nut roast recipes & Laura from 'Kitsunetsuki Kitchen' has presented a game-changer in the form of her mustard mash & veggie sausages combination. So many decisions to be made..!

Until then, I've still got a lot of Camus criticism to be reading & so I'll be sticking to stews & microwavable leftovers (hello tonight's dinner) until the foreseeable future - I've keen to try this healing looking curried yellow split pea soup from 'Sprouted Kitchen', Yotam Ottlolenghi's new take on the most festive of vegetables in his brussel sprout risotto(!) & Ava's stuffed sweet potatoes, all ideal hibernation food while it's not looking especially tempting outside.

On that note, I think my hot water bottle is due a refill & time for another serving of that mushroom & parnsip rosti pie.

What've you been dishing up lately? Any nut roast recipes you'd like to share?

Speak soon - O.

03/12/14: Three days in Brighton & three years together!

Phew. 03/12/14. Almost struggling to believe what I've typed up there ^ is accurate & I hope that I'm not the only one on whom that has snuck up. As much as I love Christmas (a lot,by the way!) I feel that I am chasing my tail at the, err, tail end of the year trying to fit a lot into the festive season that won't wait until new year i.e present buying, meeting up with friends as well as essay planning & helping my Mum prepare to move house, at long last. Before the c-word, however, Andrew & I here at 'The Beet Generation' always have another celebration to look forward to during this season which is our anniversary. This time around it has been three whole years(!) & having not had the chance for a holiday together in a long while, we promised that we would endeavour to make the most of the occasion this year & get away for a few days. Just shy of the county of my birth, less than two hours from London & with the faded romance of a seaside town, we soon settled on Brighton & booked a couple of nights at Snooze in Kemptown. This darling little B&B was recommended to me by a friend & it couldn't have been a better hideaway with the most beautiful bedroom, friendly staff, big veggie breakfasts & just ten minutes from the bustle of the lanes nearby. 

Trudging through the rain from the train station on the Sunday afternoon, the two of us were all too happy to hole ourselves up in our mustard yellow room for most of the afternoon, jumping on the bed & picnicking on the carpet before resolving to walk along the seafront before dinner. Despite the persistent rain, we were both still enchanted by the sight of the string lights of the pier leading out to sea & walked the length of the parade until our ears were numb & we resolved to head to one of the pubs that I'd scouted out in advance - The Constant Service up in Hanover. It was a small establishment strung with fairy lights, playing motown on vinyl & with plenty on draught to keep us entertained so we bundled up on a sofa for a very contented couple of hours. Grumbling stomachs reminded us of the need for dinner & we ambled back to Kemptown at about eight o'clock for a couple of bean burgers at The Thomas Kemp before half-drunkenly falling into our (very comfortable) bed come midnight.  

The two of us were doubtless relieved to wake up to bright, sunny skies on Monday morning as it was our only full day in Brighton & we were up at half past eight to make the most of the day (& the inclusive, delicious breakfast) The seafront was significantly more serene at eleven o'clock & we strolled the length of the beach skimming stones & snapping photographs of the big wheel & even bigger seagulls of which I am deathly afraid. Neither of us could resist the pull of the pier so as soon as we judged our breakfasts to be sufficiently digested, it was onto the dance mats & grabber machines (so many ten pences lost that day) to try & fail to win me a teddy bear. Luckily I'm just fine with the one I've got (hi Ted!) Stocking up on postcards & the mandatory sticks of rock, we ambled up to the West Pier & in search of Small Batch Coffee, instead we stumbled upon Idyea where we stopped for a lunch of candied beetroot & sweetcorn fritters (no mention of the moment when I dropped my iPhone straight into my root mash while trying to Instagram it, please Andrew) Luckily we knew that nothing could curb our appetite for the highlight of the day which was our dinner reservation at The Chilli Pickle - a couple of swift mulled ciders between the hotel & the restaurant later, we tucked into deep-fried cauliflower florets, garlic naan, masala dosa, pureed spinach & peas, mushroom rice & more chutneys than I can name. All full of flavour, texture & evidently love, we ate with relish & came away full of awe &, err, curry.

Alas the rain returned on our last day in the seaside town but that did give us an excuse to hop between various shops, from To Be Worn Again where I bought Andrew a psychedelic patterned vintage shirt by way of anniversary present, Immediate where Andrew bought a suede, zipped up cardigan, The Flour Pot Bakery where I bought a small, seeded loaf of sourdough by way of souvenir (my only purchase, how telling!), Resident where Andrew finally tracked down Nirvana's 'In Utero' remastered & the legendary Snoopers' Paradise where we spent hours rummaging & deciding on our poses for the inevitable photobooth photos that were to follow. It was with heavy hearts that we made our wound our way back to the station at seven o'clock that evening & clambered onto an exceedingly slow train to London but we were both grateful for the opportunity to take a couple of days outside of the everyday when being together & appreciative of one another can get a little lost under other things. I hope that the both of keep a tight hold of that sense of serenity on the seafront as we go into a new year. 
So happy anniversary, lover & here's to the rest of 'em.

How do you like Brighton?

I'll be back soon with an update as to what I've been dishing up lately (other than mince pies!)

Speak soon - O.