Stock in trade

Today I realised two mini life goals in one - to cook my mother a proper Sunday roast; and to cook with game. I roasted a couple of partridges and did proper roast potatoes in goose fat - the kind that you boil first and then shake around in the pan. I felt all grown up and my mum said all the right things (whatever she secretly thought of my cooking!)

And with the leftover veg and carcass, I found another first - first time making stock. I had somehow always thought this was a mystical process and yet here I have my first batch of around 1.2L stock. I have probably made all kinds of rookie errors and the proof of the pudding is in the eating... so I will be making soup/stew in the week and I will let you know how it goes.

It's an appealing golden yellow colour (it looks darker in the photo than real life) and reassuringly clear - I passed it through a cheesecloth. It should last 3-4 days in the fridge or 2-3 months in the freezer. I am keeping back half for soups this week and half for the freezer. 

My first crop!

A few months ago, I was in a gorgeous private garden opened to the public for charity. It was absolutely stunning and, inspired, I went to buy a plant in the little tent they had set up. I ended up walking out having been given a small chilli plant by the lovely people inside - and last week I harvested my first crop! I used them in a soup - they are very gentle in flavour which I am relieved by!

Small but perfect!

It is a very small step towards home grown produce - but a step it is and an infinite improvement on last year's nil produce!

Sloe poke

Bottling sloe gin is normally done in the winter - preferably in time to enjoy the fruits of your not-labour at Christmas. But better late than never - I've been periodically looking at, gently agitating and thinking of these beautiful jewel-coloured jars since October when I picked the fruit and had my first go at liqueurs.

Tonight I had a first go at bottling two of the three and I learned the following:

• Logically, to the initial alcohol you have added sugar and fruitness, both of which increase the volume - I have been astonished at how much gin came out of the jar, given how much went in. Note to self - get more bottles than you think you need.
• Bottling fruit liqueurs is best not started at 10PM on a weeknight. It takes time for the drip-drip-drip slow separation of alcohol from fruit (as though they are only parting reluctantly, having had such a great roadtrip together these crazy months from clear, transparent liquid through faintly pink to deep amethyst.)
• Straining the fruit is easier if you can support the fruit and go away and leave it - standing holding the muslin full of fruit with your nose full of the smell is both tantalising and boring.
• In view of both of the above points, it is better to bottle one liqueur at a time and not attempt two or three at the same time.

However, don't let this put you off. Standing at 11.30PM watching a slightly mesmeric process still beats the leather pants off watching Strictly Come Dancing, so I'm still pretty pleased with my evening's work. And ultimately, this will be a rich harvest for a pleasant autumn walk and a couple of brief kitchen sessions. You could genuinely spend more time designing a label for your gin than actually making it. Though I will invest in some more bottles and consider how to construct a means to hang the bag overnight in the future. (As well as design some proper labels).

I can't wait for the tasting. In the meantime, I think I need to find a better place than under the kitchen sink so I can frequently look on and admire this store cupboard staple!

Bicycles. Who knew?

I feel like I'm the last person to discover that bicycles unlock super powers. I was under the misconception that they are simply a means of getting from A to B.

I have read often and often of the exponential benefits of riding a bike. Mr Money Mustache and The Escape Artist in particular are vocal on this subject. I have always loved the idea of cycling, but the thought of actually getting on a bike was still pretty scary - especially in London.

So I talked about getting a bike but never actually did anything about it. And lo! My boyfriend observed this, and decided to act - he bought me a bike for my birthday present. This was an awesome idea, but until last week still a slightly theoretical one.

Since last week, I have been cycling to work and back most days - and it's transformed so much more than my commute.

Benefits of bikes - the obvious:

1. Free commuting. Duh. This was one of my main motivations - smashing my Oyster card (aka public transport network) spending to smithereens.

2. More exercise and more free time. Hard to fit into the average day. Why not use the commute instead? Especially as cycling gets me to work and back faster than the bus.

Benefits of bikes - the unexpected:

1. Determination and improved problem solving. Screw you, rain, I'm not letting you get in the way of my lovely commute. Flat tyre? Internet plus bike shop equals restored speed.

2. Skills. Gradually getting the hang of pumping a tyre, and wanting to understand how the gear thingummybob works. Feeling less ignorant and more smug each time I 'unlock' another function. (And no need to defeat a boss to level up!)

3. Energy. My morning cycle is the equivalent of a triple espresso shot when it comes to waking me up and getting my blood pumping. (But also has much better impact on both wallet and health than a daily triple espresso...)

4. Better separation between home and work. During my cycle home, I focus on the road, the bike, the burn going up hill and the sense of flying as I coast down the other side. By the time I get home, I have completely unplugged from work. 

5. Independence. It sounds silly, but now I hate waiting at the bus stop. Why do I have to wait for someone else to come and collect me - when the bike means my departure and arrival time are entirely down to my choice and my leg muscles?

Any more unexpected benefits of cycling that you've discovered?

Introducing Future You

You come home from a long day at work. A busy day - the phone didn't stop ringing. A stressful commute - the platform more crowded than usual, the train ride bumpier and slower. You work hard, and you deserve to put your feed up and chill.

The last thing you feel like doing is prepping for the next day at work. Why start tomorrow's workload before you have to? This is when you always intend to prepare a packed lunch for the next day, or plan the weekly meals, but this window between workdays is precious. You don't want to let the stresses of the world invade, or the to-do list take over your last bit of free time. You'll do it tomorrow - after all, you can get up a bit earlier and make a salad before leaving that will taste that bit fresher. And no one ever finishes their to-do list, do they?

Does this feel familiar?

Current You is about to open a bottle of beer and sink into the comfy sofa. Current You defers the urgent bank transfer/tax return/meal planning/clothes mending/food prep to tomorrow morning, the weekend, next month. In other words, Current You is delegating the task to Future You.

So meet Future You. Future You Tomorrow Morning is tired. Her Past Self Last Night went to bed later than she ought to because Game of Thrones. Future You Tomorrow Morning tries to pull some clothes out of the cupboard, hopefully not too crumpled. She rushes into the kitchen - no time for coffee or making lunch - and grabs a banana as an on-the-go breakfast (it's fruit, it must be healthy). She runs out the door, realises halfway to work that she forgot an essential document and her socks don't match, and soon caves to the need for caffeine and sugar at the cafe in the train station on the way through - after all, a cappucino and a croissant won't make much of a difference to anything.

So before you crack open the beer and sink into that sofa, do Future You Tomorrow Morning a favour. Get your bag ready to go and by the door. Get out clothes and check they are clean and presentable. (And matching). Prep the coffee machine. Put water in the kettle and a teabag in a mug. Future You is stressed - give her a break. Give her a helping hand.

Coffee all ready to go for the morning. Just add heat.

This is a deceptively simple idea. Once I started spotting ways to give Future Me a headstart or a helping hand, I kept finding them. There are two stages I've observed of this mental trick:

At first, you focus on short time gaps, but there's a pretty immediate feedback loop. When Present You this morning finds that Past You Last Night laid out some clothes and got the coffee ready to go, it's a small but awesome feeling. Everything is a bit easier, a bit less stressful. And you're more likely to pay the favour forwards, to make the bed and clear the breakfast things away and check there's something for supper for Future You When You Get Home Tonight. 

The gradually you start visualising yourself further into the future and making better decisions more frequently. Flossing your teeth is boring and annoying, but I think of Future Me in the Dentist Waiting Room in a few months' time - I bet she'll be glad Past Her flossed. (Most of the time).

Where does it end? All the bigger life goals I have for Future Me Twenty Years Down The Line - a life focused on producing rather than consuming, with time and space and energy to dedicate to people and projects and causes I care about - start to feel more real with this trick. I'm not completing a boring chore or crossing something off the to-do list - I'm giving all these Future Mes a gift, and I can't wait to see what they do with it.

Weather 0 - Me 1

Today was the first time I've been tempted to take the bus home instead of walking. For reasons that will I think be mostly self-evident, but I should add that my 'to and from work' clothes today were jeans and a thin t-shirt as the morning was so warm and sunny.

To mitigate the wet and the cold, I jogged part of the way home. I felt like I'd really won a battle - haha! Yes! The weather thought it had me beat, but no! Not even the British weather can stop me getting my walks.

(It's strangely addictive, this walking to work stuff. I promise I'm not normally like this!)

The value of being able to say no

I've been reminded this week of the importace of something referred to on some blogs as "FU money". It's pretty self-explanatory - it's about not living paycheck to paycheck, but having an emergency fund that means you are able to step back from a job when you need to.

A friend of mine is struggling at work. The long hours and unreasonable demands are pushing them to their limits, leaving them stressed, sleep deprived and utterly drained. It's a vaguely familiar spectre, reminding me of my time in consultancy where - however interesting the work and fun the colleagues - I felt like work had to take precedence over everything else. This is not ideal. Work is good for us, but no job is worth getting burn out.

I am extremely lucky to work where I do. I adore my job - I wake up and I look forward to getting into the office. Some of that is because the work I do is so interesting, varied and challenging - but a lot is because I work for a supportive employer who wants me to do well. My boss tells me to go home when I'm in late, instead of reprimanding me for coming in late. My extra hours are logged and I can take them as time off in lieu. I get a good day's work done and then I go home, and then I repeat the cycle. When something happens - my mother's surgery, for instance - my team recognise that anyone can answer the email, but only I can sit in A&E, so they tell me to be where I need to be, and not to worry about papers and deadlines. This is worth more than a top-drawer salary to me.

But I do remember - and see - what it is like to work somewhere that has to squeeze you like a lemon for the business model to function. I don't want to take my current circumstances for granted - I want the choice to be able to say "FU" if I find myself there again. I already have the comfort of a good savings cushion, and the confidence of being able to live on a low income. This gives me a peace of mind, and today I am really valuing that.

Walking the long way around

For a while, I've been trying to psych myself up to cycling to work. It ticks so many boxes - being physically active, reducing emissions, saving money. But cycling in London is TERRIFYING. There are loads more bikes than a couple of years ago, but I'm a wuss.

After a while of feeling bad for lazily resorting to the bus, it finally occurred to me that there's another way for me to get to work under my own steam - walking.

It's about an hour's walk each way. It's a walk that takes me across and along the River Thames for part of my walk, and I feel connected with this city in a totally new way. Yes, it's a longer travel time than the bus - but I arrive at work feeling energised and fully awake, ready to start the day. I've already achieved something and I haven't even switched on my laptop. 

It's a really good feeling, and it's kind of surprised me. I thought the long walks would feel like a chore, but they are a real joy, especially compared to the bus. It's time to think, time to listen to music or to podcasts, time to breathe and look around me. I pass through different faces of this city - through areas of great wealth and areas of social housing, through areas of business and areas of luxury residence, through parks and along busy roads.

I'm trying to walk more travelling to other parts of the city too - a hospital appointment this week became an unexpected joy when I realised I could take a train part of the way, and then have a 45-minute walk along the Southbank - possibly the best walk in London. Shakespeare's Globe, St Paul's Cathedral, the Golden Hines ship, the Tate Modern, Southwark Cathedral...

But my favourite bit is definitely the river. I always knew the Thames was tidal, but never quite realised that meant you can hear the wash of the tides lapping against sand, the croak of seagulls... Guys, it's like walking by the beach. But, y'know, not.

The re-return

So helloooo blogosphere! I'm back. Again. Again.

Life seems to go in these cycles where I go off and discover new terrain, and then want to 'come home', make lemonade and knit stuff. Perhaps it's a good moment to reflect on what's the same and what's different.

So what is the same? Not much. Just me. Everything around me is different. Different job, different city, different home, different rhythm of life. I'm having so much fun with my life. I have a job I am excited to get to in the mornings, and that's very precious.

Because of that, my work has been my primary focus over the last months or years even, but I think the urge to knit things is perhaps an indicator that I need to slow down a bit more and savour this journey. Take more time just to be, to reflect, and to recharge. I feel a bit like I've climbed the first peak in the Himalayas and it feels awesome, but maybe I should take a break before I hit the second.

And you? What's new?

Slow but mobile?

After a year in the UK, I'm now back in Brussels for a brief stint. It feels really good to be back! 

I don't know if it's the time of year or something about Brussels, but here I am, reviving the blog and seeking some slowness again. I think you feel you can have a slow life in Brussels, while London doesn't allow for that possibility. Here, there are more parks. You can walk to work. There are farmers' markets in every square. The main thing though is the size - it no longer takes forever to get from A to B, and you can genuinely ring up some friends on Saturday evening to propose a dinner party and be sitting down together within the hour.

There are some aspects of this life I can dive straight back into. Seasonal cooking! I've been squashing (see what I did there) as many different variants of pumpkin into my recipes as I can, and discovering new types along the way. (Spaghetti pumpkin - so easy, so yummy, so versatile...)

But many other aspects are harder to embrace when you find yourself changing jobs, home and even country every 6 to 12 months, which is the situation I am currently in. I absolutely love my job, both what I am doing now and the future prospects it offers, but the scheme I am on gives me no control over where I go and no ability to plan ahead. I get rotated every six months, and I am told 6-8 weeks beforehand where I will go next.

 

This means that things involving long time-periods (like brewing fruit wine), or space for storage (like homemade jam) or equipment (like a sewing machine) or bulky ingredients (like soap-making) are pretty much out. It does not make sense logistically, financially or for my sanity to lug large quantities of oil and lye around.

The one thing I have brought with me is my knitting. Needles do not take up much space, and I no longer have a stash of wool. 

 

But all the oh so many things I really want to do - and which I could very feasibly do in terms of time if I were living here longer - just don't make sense. A fruit tree in a pot - what do I do with it when I leave? Build a small worm-compost box - ditto.

How do you manage this compromise? Any ideas for more mobile simplicity?

Where have you been all my life?

My efforts at simple living 'last time around', before I left for London, now seem to be to involve huge amounts of research and effort for small things. Where - WHERE - could one buy a bottle brush? Or fuller's earth? Or a handy basket? Or a cheesecloth? 

The basic equipment and ingredients were so hard to find. But in the time I was gone, dear Brussels, you went and got yourself not one but two branches of Dille & Kamille.

I mostly know the brand because their cloth bags seem the latest hipster accessory. They are EVERYWHERE here. Which put me off slightly, but then I ended up on their website (I forget why) and I realised that I HAD to come at my earliest opportunity.

I went today. There's shelves and shelves of different kinds of brushes. Liquid and hard soaps, candles, cooking implements, jam jars and bottles... I was in paradise. 

The things that matter

My mother is in hospital recovering from open-heart surgery. It's been a long, long week, most of it spent at the hospital.

I am grateful that my mother is doing well.

I am grateful to her fabulous surgeons.

I am grateful for the hospital cafe providing injections of tea and sugar.

I am grateful I have my sister with me, that neither of us has to walk this path alone.

I am grateful for the people I love who flood me with texts and calls.

I am grateful for home, a place to come back to and rest at the end of each day.

I am grateful to work for someone who urges me to work from home, take the day off, go to the hospital and don't worry about the deadlines.

Living well and with style without breaking the bank: "Orchids on your budget"

After an adventurous year with a new city, new career and many new challenges, I've been reflecting on what simple living means to me now.

The importance of living well on a budget, setting money aside to save for future goals and rainy days, is as important as ever. The career move I made last year meant moving to a more expensive city at the same time as taking a significant salary cut in order to 'start again' at entry level. Budgeting has become more challenging.

At the same time, the opportunities that this move has offered me in terms of building relationships and seeking new experiences - growing and developing as a person professionally, intellectually, creatively and emotionally - are immense. I want to take full advantage of them, of this moment in my life, but I have even less resources (time and money) at my disposal.

Many of the examples, blogs and books I have looked to in the last years demonstrate the importance and value of taking time out of the 'rat race', the value in reconnecting with the slower rhythms of the natural world rather than the rapid movements of popular culture. But much as I am drawn to many of these, and can often find elements to incorporate into my approach, it's hard to get away from the idea that they don't quite fit the moment I am in life. 

I know I'm oversimplifying, but it often feels that I am looking at a model of 'leaning out' of modern life - a move from urban to rural, from ambitious careerism to putting work second, an emphasis on time-intensive crafts and home-cooking. In a word, old-fashioned (and I don't mean that at all pejoratively, but as an approach which rediscovers and celebrates what sometimes forgotten or abandoned skills and tasks can offer us today.) 

What I am increasingly looking for is a model of simple living that enables me to 'lean in' - follow my professional ambitions, enjoy the best of city life without losing touch with country pleasures, and to live not just inexpensively but also with style. I want to be able to enjoy the high cultures of the city and the sports of the countryside, to present myself well at the office and enjoy feeling chic in my down-time, and to enjoy international travel today without making it impossible tomorrow.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have found a book which exactly bridges this gap. Which reaffirms the importance of budgeting, living below your means in order to save, and of exploring inexpensive pleasures. And which also argues it is possible to do all of this, and still have 'orchids', or rather to incorporate some luxuries into your life. 

"Orchids on your budget; Live smartly on what you have" was written in 1937, advising the ladies of New York that a reduced income doesn't mean they have to give up all hopes of being well-dressed, of entertaining in style and having the occasional orchids. The author, Marjorie Hillis, was assistant editor of Vogue and seems to have been a fascinating woman.

In many ways the advice offered is not new, and will be very familiar to many of us. Focus on big expenditures like what you pay for your home, and prioritise either size or location, but not both. Down-size and declutter as much as you can. Decorate using second-hand items, homemade bits, finds from thrift stores, and make it chic using a simple colour scheme. Look after your clothes, make sure they are properly maintained, cleaned and mended. Learn to cook well using inexpensive, local or seasonal ingredients.

The difference is that she focuses on style, panache, glamour. On building a wardrobe that is easy to maintain and chic, for example. She advises reading fashion magazines as you would an exam textbook to distil the key trends and using that to add a few inexpensive touches (eg an accessory rather than a full suit) to a capsule wardrobe so you look up to date without spending much on clothes you won't get much wear out of. 

Most of all, I loved the tone of the book, the witty and acerbic voice of Marjorie Hillis advising me to make good use of what I have, rather than complaining that I can't have more. My favourite quote is on her advice that everyone should have a hobby, should seek interesting things rather than waiting for them to find you: "Be a Communist, a stamp collector, or a Ladies’ Aid worker if you must, but for heaven’s sake, be something." For another taste of her 'voice', there's a good article on her earlier book "Live alone and like it" here. 

I enjoyed the independent, forward-thinking approach to women in the workplace - Marjorie Hillis also wrote a guide to 'spare women' on how to 'Life alone and like it', and urges women to see how they can earn something to support themselves or help the household budget go further, whether by going out to work or making use of their skills and resources in the home. One chapter is entitled 'Can you afford a husband?' - her sense of humour is apparent throughout.

She argues a lot is in attitude - the importance of enthusiasm, of creating fun for yourself and others rather than dwelling on what you wish you had, comes back again and again throughout the book. It's a fantastic complement to what has been written about slowing down, budgeting and 'making do and mending', but with added glitz. For anyone worried that living on a budget means giving up too much, this is a great source of tips for living glamorously on a shoestring.

Tea fixes everything

I'm back in the UK and staying with my mum for a while. I'm enjoying the endless tea and the long chats, and I am reminded that no matter how adult and independent you get, your mum will always give you cake and hugs and explain everything to you as if you're new round here, even through you've been visiting for years.

Assorted thoughts

::I've got the sound of silence ringing in my ears. It's very very loud, deafening even, but I realise I've been drowning it out with inane tv for the last days and it's probably time to get to know the sound again.::

::Meditation, cups of tea, reading, walks, roast butternut squash. These things are good. Alcohol and wallowing and not getting dressed. These things are bad.::

::Washing up is strangely therapeutic.::

::Postponing unpleasant tasks does not make them any easier, but under certain circumstances it can give you the time to build the emotional strength.::

::Loneliness is a rather bipolar companion, at times restful and at times violently painful.::

::And whatever is happening, the Earth rolls on, the clouds roll by and the minute hand rolls round. However much you want them to go in the opposite direction.::

Unexpectednesses

It's been awhile, internet-y-folks. There has been much change and drama.

There was the unexpected new job, with new challenges, new responsibilities, and much stress and joy.

This was followed by unexpectedly getting a place on the scheme of my dreams, which means four years of moving around learning all sorts of fabulous things and having the chance to make a difference in some small way and getting to spend much more time with my family and loved ones 'back home' and getting paid for it.

Underneath all this was the rumbling, painful, horrible tummy ache of I'm-not-sure-this-relationship-is-right-for-me. A tummy ache of now nearly two years' duration. And I realise that much of my life - my location, my hobbies - has been built up around my relationship, and I'm horrified to find that I'm not sure what I want in life. But I'm desperately afraid that this is precisely what I don't want.

I'm in the process of moving - moving backwards and forwards at the same time, going home while simultaneously stepping - leaping - into new adventures. But much remains unresolved.

When life is confusing, I start knitting jumpers. I guess you guys know the feeling.

 

Sunday reading

A sponge fermenting overnight for today's bread

Homemade pasta recipe
How to make fresh produce last when you only shop once a month
What is the grain to glass trend?
Shake the wintertime blues: move
How to make beeswax candles
7 things you can make instead of buying
Homegrown popcorn
Hibernot (a sponsored section of The Guardian website on getting outside in the winter0

{this moment}

{this moment} ~ A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

Beyond the humble grain

I listened to a fantastic podcast yesterday. It's an episode of BBC Radio 4's Food Programme, and they generally do really interesting programmes, I highly recommend it. They don't shy away from controversial topics but they also do some interesting delves into culinary history and look at current trends.

 

This episode was from a few weeks ago, and can be listened to online or downloaded anywhere in the world (yay for Auntie! - link). It's partly prompted by a new documentary called "The Grain Divide" which is due out 'soon' (not clear when).

 

The radio programme travelled around the world (including under the Arctic permafrost) and interviewed farmers, bakers, scientists, historians and others about a growing movement to reintroduce older strains of wheat to our diet, and create new ones. Basically, over time as we've selected for a grain that gives good yields and a fine white flour, we've lost flavour and nutrition along the way.

 

 

Everyone who's baked bread will know that commercially-baked loaves ain't got a think on home-made - using stoneground whole-grain flour and a slow rise makes enormous different to flavour. We know a lot of the nutrient is in the bran and other parts of the grain that don't make it into commercial white flours. 

 

The slow fermentation of traditional baking helps break down gluten and other parts of the flour to make nutrients more available for us to absorb in digestion, and there's a theory that the accelerated Chorleywood Bread Process has contributed to a rise in gluten intolerance.

 

Several people are trying to grow and use some older strains to bring us closer to the bread that would have been eaten two hundred or more years ago. There are other advantages to older strains - they are better adapted to the landscapes they evolved on, less susceptible to adverse weather, disease and local pests.

 

My next challenge will naturally be to find a source of heritage wheat locally. (For readers in the UK, there's a guide to local artisanal mills at The Sourdough School).

Eat well for less

When starting to think about eating more frugally and simplify food shopping, I think most of us discover just how freeing it can be to plan meals and create a shopping list, and how much we can save by cooking from scratch. Such a simple change but it massively helps bring down food spending and food waste, and cuts out last-minute trips to the shops to get "something for dinner". 

Now these pearls of wisdom are being brought to a new audience with a fantastic new programme from the BBC called "Eat well for less". A tv chef and grocer help a different family every week to cut their food bills and eat better. They invade the family's kitchen and replace their normal food shopping with unbranded food. Some is swapped for cheaper food, such as dried pasta instead of fresh, or supermarket own-brand products. Some is their normal food without the packaging. Some is even more expensive but better quality.

We watch them nervously try the various foods and try to guess what is swapped and what is the same, and then there is the big reveal, we learn the identities of the products and the savings on each item. It amounts to thousands of pounds saved over the year. And most entertainingly, the families often like least those items which weren't swapped - once the packaging is removed, turns out they don't really it!

They also have a dietician looking at the amount of sugar in different brands of pasta sauce, and comparing the nutritional value of different tins of baked beans. They do blind tastings of yoghurt, tea and orange juice (among others) in the general public and see whether the most expensive is also the most popular.

It's made us look again at our own spending, and we've started trying some cheaper brands to compare price/quality. We've also switched from buying bags of pre-prepared salad to preparing our own from a head of lettuce and a punnet of rocket. 

It's a really interesting programme, and for those outside the UK, the episodes are available on youtube.