Bread and Butter


Dominating so much of all our thoughts right now, it is also one of my favourite things on the planet. Not actually true. I love my children best, but I do love good bread and cold, unsalted butter. There is no competition; if I had to choose it would be kids all the way, trust me, but right now, with my new found bread making skills, Thank the Lord I am running or it would be a style disaster.

I feel like a Farm Girl. I know I will get flack for saying it, but that’s OK. There is no war, I am not driving a tractor and wearing men’s clothes for the first time, but the whole siege economy thing is seeming to bring out the best in all of us. Good old Brown telling us not to throw away so much food. Are these recent figures he is using? Or are they from last year? You would need a lobotomy to throw away anything edible right now.( I have stopped giving my dog whole apples and give her the core and peelings now. She still has a carrot every morning, though. I can persuade the poodle that a pear core is a good thing, but nothing else. He like oat cakes after his run.)

I am looking at the idea of a Food Festival in Balham. I want to take part in it, not run it. I want someone else to do that, and to that end have spoken to the Balham Town Centre Manager. It may happen, it is thrilling. She already had the idea and now, with support, is willing to take it to the next stage of beaurocracy. It may happen in late September.

I am also going to join Food Up Front. Lots of people growing food in their gardens and available outside space. I love it. We are all taking responsibility for ourselves and getting on with it. Although I must confess the news that a recession was looming did dampen my post-run euphoria this morning. I thought we were already in one- a recession. But there are lots of TV stations, newspapers and media rags to fill, so disaster must be capitalised upon, expanded, stretched, drawn out, spun, woven…..