Recipes Archives - Jenny May

Apologies, peace and sweet treats.

Hi there

I want to start today with an apology, well actually, two. Firstly, I know my last few pieces of writing have laid out some pretty heavy stuff that perhaps has been hard for some people to read and I am sorry to cause anyone pain. But, I didn’t feel I could carry on with my writing without being honest about where things currently stand. The last hard thing for now is I’m going to answer a question I’m sure a lot of people are wondering about, although, actually, I’m not really going to answer it. When you know someone has incurable cancer thoughts are going to gravitate to: how long left… so for anyone wondering, I don’t know and I’ve decided I don’t want to know – not until I absolutely have to. I’m not daft, I know the stats and parameters, I know what’s going on in my body better than anyone else, I know I’ve been dealing with this cancer for seven years now and I know what currently treatment is/isn’t doing. On bad days I feel I am at the lesser end of the scale, on good days I feel entirely hopeful that I can claim back something rather better and it is that hope that I wish to live by. There, that is the last of the really difficult bits.

The second apology is to all you lovely, lovely people who have been in contact in various ways – and I just haven’t got back to yet. I sometimes end up in a state of absolute overwhelm and become like a rabbit in headlights and freeze. I then feel so horribly guilty about taking so long to reply that it makes me freeze further – a terrible trait and one I shall work on. But thank you to everyone who has been in touch – I will be getting back to you all – slowly but surely.

I have to admit though that part of the not sorting out visits and get-togethers is because I am feeling very self-conscious about how I look and becoming less confident about being out in public. I still have hair, but having started a second chemo, and one I lost it with before, I am expecting it to fully go soon. But this time my cancer is behaving differently. Previously it has all been very hidden but now it is very much only just under the skin of my neck, back, shoulder and now chest. Not only are tumours clearly visible but the cancer is making my skin look as if I have been burned in a fire. Add to this redness and swelling and nerve damage that means I cannot move the lower right hand side of my mouth, and well, you can begin to imagine that it is hard not to feel like hiding away. There is a particular difficulty in seeing your face be changed, a thing that very much defines you and you have lived with all your life, to look in the mirror and no longer see a person you fully recognise is upsetting and is a step I am trying to learn to live with in the knowledge that it may still get worse.

But, believe it or not this brings me on to a nicer thing I want to come back to. Last time I wrote, I left a pondering on the word ‘softening’ that was for some reason coming to me often. And it continues to do so and has been helping me. To me, this softening is a place of stillness to step into when anxiety or overwhelm start knocking. It feels like a pocket of time-out where I am neither fighting with exuberant positivity nor dropping down in to low mood. It is a neutral place of calm where I can view the world with a gentle clarity and even curiosity. I find within it that I don’t have to be anything at all except present, I don’t have to be happy or sad, scared, anxious or a warrior. This softening is a place I can allow my thoughts to gently morph like clouds slowly changing from one shape to another; no discernible movement yet they transform and slip easily from one state to another. The softening, a place without hard edges where nothing has to be yes or no, hard or easy, where what we think and what we feel can interplay or not. It is an allowing of everything and yet letting nothing be all consuming. And with this softening comes a freedom to allow anything to have the chance to be. It has also instilled in me a security of belief in myself and my place in the world. Anyone who has followed my writing over the years will know that I am a bit of a hippy nature nerd, it is where I find my peace and my place. I like the thought of being the tree that bends with the wind rather than trying to stand against it and then snap. And to stand as that tree that bends you need to have confidence in your roots that you know to be true to you. I know that I am at my best self when I am open, curious and hold peace at my centre. I know that I love and that I am loved and it is with these things that I plant my roots into the ground and if I soften into them I can bend with the storms.

I would love for each and every one of you to find your softening. I’m sure it will look and feel different to everyone. But I thoroughly recommend it. Next time you are feeling the pull of anxiety or stress or even over excitement, say to yourself, ‘soften’ take a breath and step into that gentle place and be curious as to where you go.

There is a breath visualisation I like to use sometimes to get into this place that you may like too: take a breath in and imagine it going into your headspace, breath out and drop that breath to your throat. Breathe in and on the exhale drop your breath to your chest. Breathe in, then allow the next breath to drop to your stomach. Breath in and this time, on your out breath imagine it dropping through your legs and out through the soles of your feet and as this happens think of the things that you know to be true to you and that keep you grounded. Feel yourself soften.

I mentioned that one tenet true to me is curiosity. I have been in a strange place at the beginning of this year where so many difficult things were happening that I lost all my usual interests, but I find that I am slowly crawling out of that dearth now and small snippets of curiosity are coming back to me. And it seems it has a hunger! I have found myself wanting to try new recipes and food ideas – some have worked better than others but the best two of late come with a sweet tooth and if you are that way inclined here they are.

Firstly, dates filled with peanut butter then coated with dark chocolate. Warning, these are immensely moreish and do not last long.

Secondly, and bear with me here: butternut squash chocolate mousse. Trust me, I don’t know how or why it works but it does. What I did: 400g butternut squash steamed until soft then blended until as smooth as possible. 200g chocolate, half dark, half milk, melted. Then add the squash to the chocolate, whisk together, pour into a dish and let set. I dare you to try it!

I think next time I write to you lovely lot I’m going to talk a little on anger and love. But I shall leave you now, hopefully with thoughts of softness and peace and sweet chocolate treats.

Nothing but food

Mealtimes have become the main event rather than the punctuation. But here is a danger; the comfort or boredom snacking.

There is nothing to talk about but food. Oh, and – when is bins? I don’t know about you, but between the amount of time we have been in lockdown and the weather being so bad that even the allowed daily exercise has been put largely on hold, it feels that there is very little to say about what anyone has done each week. Living rurally, we were completely snowed in and so I didn’t even get to my blood or chemo appointments this week. They may not exactly be highlights but at least they mean I get to leave the house.

I love having catch ups with my closest ones on various on-line platforms but they, as well as phone calls can end up a little like this: “Anyone done anything this week?” “Not really.” “Pretty much the same as last week.” “Yep.” “Yep, me too.”

At least before the snow we were able to start talking about what was coming out in the garden and the things we were thinking of getting planted, but even that has been thwarted until things improve. The snow itself, did of course, provide a new topic of conversation for a while especially when wondering just who had left trails up and down our garden when I wasn’t looking – turns out, it was pheasants.

But it’s not as if there is nothing to do, it’s just that somehow, in our long confinements, everything just feels a bit samey. If it weren’t for all my hospital appointments the calendar would be redundant; even weekends have no meaning anymore as, because MOTH and I have been working from home, work is an any day, every day, any time thing.

And so food seems to be the thing that is keeping us all going – literally and figuratively. The highlight of most days is the coming meal. It is a marker of time passing and something nice (hopefully) to look forward to, something that is different to the previous day. Mealtimes have become the main event rather than the punctuation. But here is a danger; the comfort or boredom snacking, accompany this with not being out and active and you can understand why a rotation of jogging bottoms are becoming my staple wardrobe. I’ve not helped myself by coming up with a dangerously easy, tasty quick bake, the recipe for which is below. The cats appear to be in on it too and I couldn’t count the number of times a day I refill their biscuit bowls. They, however do not have jogging bottoms. And the birds are no better.

On an unrelated food note, do you ever feel like you have the same things over and over again? After feeling like this a while back, I started keeping a list of the different meals I cook and it’s now in the seventies. And yes, I realise this is a very nerdy thing to do. But trust me, when you have the mind-blank of writing the shopping list for the week – it helps to be a nerd.

For a life writer, this lack of doing anything makes it very hard to write about, well, doing anything. Before you know it I’ll be telling you about the ironing or how I’ve re-labelled all my wallet files (and just how is it that in a supposedly going paper-less world there is still just so much blinking life-admin paperwork?) or even tidying the stationery drawer, which is on my radar to do. Perhaps we will all end up with a new level of tolerance of the mundane where every-day activities are the height of excitement. On a serious note, we might all be learning to find a new joy in smaller less exuberant activities, which actually, I think could be a good thing in a way.

Whatever you are all not-doing this week, I hope it is punctuated by some lovely food. I for one am off to have supper after posting this and to think about what we need to get out of the freezer to cook tomorrow.

And, just when is bins?

For my easy soft-bake flapjack recipe, click here

Easy soft-bake flapjack

This is a really quick and easy basic recipe that is perfect for adding in whatever you fancy as little extras.

Ingredients:

4oz oats milled or blitzed in a blender or just as they are (I use gluten free)

4oz ground almonds

5oz butter (melted)

3oz sugar (caster or soft brown, whichever is your preference)

Method:

Mix together the dry ingredients then stir in the melted butter.

Cook for 20 minutes at 180 degrees (fan)

Little extras:

So far I have tried:

Orange zest and cinnamon

Cranberries and apricots

A layer of cooked apple in-between two layers of flapjack

Chocolate chips

Pre-baked Potatoes

I have become mildly obsessed with TED Talks and have to ration myself to only starting one when I know I have time to listen and watch many. Like others might binge a Netflix series, I can do the same for these presentations. And it’s not just about the interesting subjects, it also has to do with a strange fascination I have with confident speakers. As much as what they say, I am drawn to the gesticulations, expression, rhythm of speaking and the movement that goes unplanned with their words. It is something we all do, to a greater or lesser extent and I find it an interesting thing that when (in theory) words should be enough to convey what we are saying, our bodies give these impromptu extras.

Recently, when watching a news presenter giving a report while wearing a face covering, MOTH made a passing comment about the gesticulations looking odd without seeing the mouth moving too. My brain being what it is, I now can’t stop thinking about why and how our brains deliver these non-verbal expressions without our conscious instruction to do them. Have we always done it? Does everyone gesticulate? Do all cultures? What is the impact of not doing so? And so on. Perhaps there is a TED Talk about it. (I’ve just looked. There isn’t. Could someone do one please?) A moment to say, please, please wear a mask. No, none of us like it but we do things every day that are annoying, uncomfortable or we don’t like, so let’s all just crack on with this too, shall we.

Speaking of coverings (yes, exceedingly tenuous linking of thoughts – my mum will appreciate that) it is too blinking hot and I am longing to live in the lightest billowing cotton kaftan that will magically never actually touch my skin- does anyone have one I can borrow? I know I am most likely to be in the minority here, but I really don’t like this extreme heat. As someone who is cold ninety-nine percent of the time, you’d think I’d be happy when the sun was blazing. But it’s as if, when I finally get warm, my body doesn’t know how to cope with it. I literally swell up and ache and get very, very grumpy. (MOTH will attest to this with ‘help, get me out of here’ subtle eye movements.) I am longing for days of rain and snuggling up in a jumper. I am writing this in my study with the curtains half-drawn and a fan on while I am sure most of you are probably sunbathing and maybe even at the beach. The fan, by the way, is precariously close to the hanging tendrils of a flowering spider plant and I am aware that there may be a shower of little white petals blown my way at some point. Still, I usually have bits of garden in my hair or down the back of my t-shirt so it won’t make too much difference.

Speaking of the garden – it is wilting and crisping and we are hoping our main crop potatoes aren’t going to be pulled up pre-baked. We lifted our onions recently and are still feeling abundantly smug about the haul. Quite possibly over one-hundred; and ten garlic bulbs as well. As ever we are running out of ways to eat excessive amounts of courgette, it is currently being added to pretty much every meal – and still they come.

Every year I say I am never going to make jam again. This usually happens when I have been cleaning and sterilising jars, prepping huge amounts of fruit and standing over a boiling pan of bubbling fruit and sugar – all in the hottest months (merely adding to the heat I already can’t deal with – yes, I’m still grumping). Well, I have been making jam. And there will probably be more to come. The first large batch has been greenage – it seems we have a bumper crop for the first time. Most years we barely get any as, just at the point of nearly ripe, every single one gets utterly devoured by wasps. So this year, I took my cue from the stripy sugar-loving beasts and at the first signs of them boring into the fruit, I picked a basket load and finished ripening them in a paper bag. Then realised I would have to do something with them all, now that they were picked. Next up; the plums. And damsons. And apples. And blackberries. Oh dear.

It is amazing how much time it takes dealing with a mass of homegrown produce to make sure it is kept well enough to last into winter and beyond. My grandparents had the most amazing cellar which was full of jars upon jars of bottled fruit (as well as Grandad’s home-made wine – of varying successes) and I can only imagine how much time Grandma must have spent getting everything picked, prepped and stored because I don’t remember there ever being a time when there weren’t fruits to choose from, whatever the season. The exciting feeling and glorious scents of going down into the cellar I don’t think will ever leave me. It was the place where the surplus cake tins were kept, the extra cups, jars, large sieves and all manner of not-quite every day items – including (we found when sorting their estate) a teacup, with a special lip to guard the drinker’s moustache from getting wet. (Here is a
terrible picture.)

Back to the courgettes, because, as any vegetable gardener will attest – they are too numerous to ignore. One approach to use a good amount while being able to hide the quantity from those who are not so keen, is to make courgette potato cakes. Make your mashed potato as usual and let cool. Grate as many courgettes as you think you can get away with and wring them out in a tea towel to get rid of as much moisture as possible. Add the courgette to the potato and season: salt, pepper and chives works well, then squish down into a pastry cutter to create the ‘cake.’ Alternatively, make the mixture into balls and roll in flour. Both of these freeze brilliantly and cook from frozen and you can totally deceive doubters by not telling them they contain large quantities of courgette – especially if they are served with a runny-yolk poached egg on top.

Observations on a week including athleisure and cake

I find I have been regularly wearing my running leggings – with absolutely no intention of going running whatsoever. Let’s face it, with the way things are at the moment, no one is going to see me, I could just as well be wearing a shark costume and party hat for all anyone would know. But they are comfortable and there is always the possibility that I could, if the spirit took me, spontaneously launch into exercise (pause whist taking a moment to haul self, up off the floor from laughter at this idea.)

A year or so ago we saw the spread of athleisure and I, like many, scoffed. But frankly, right now I see the appeal. Clothing, athletic in its heritage, but worn for leisure and comfort. It reminds me of a black and white tracksuit I had when I was about eight, I loved it. I don’t know why as, although obsessed with ballet, I wasn’t exactly sporty even then.

The odd thing is, even though I have in the past been out running in my sports leggings, I still wouldn’t conceive of just popping out casually in them. Why? Surely jiggling about, wobbling uncontrollably in them would be worse than just wandering down the high street (ok, a notion not on the cards right now anyway) and yet it feels as if it is okay to show every bulge and bump, as long as it looks like you are making an effort to do something about it.

I am also at this juncture, once again marvelling at the truly frightening way advertising manages to hack right into life because, of late I have had many adverts turn up anywhere I log on line all luring me to buy leg sculpting, bum lifting, waist restraining sports leggings How? I don’t know, I’m pretty sure I’ve haven’t written or looked at any before now, but merely mentioned them in passing to MOTH who wondered if I might be about to do something dangerous, like jog. And, as much as I would like a pair (for the aforementioned possibility of spontaneous sport or for ignoring such) this is not a time for frivolous shopping. If any companies spot this blog and want to send me some for free, fair do’s otherwise, it’s the old faithful pair and stop showing me things I am not going to buy. Stop it!

But I am also hankering after a house coat for completely the opposite end of the wearing clothes spectrum. Before we went into lock down, I was making a concerted effort to wear some of my nicer clothes more often, particularly dresses. But I am a clumsy person, to say the least. Despite craving clear surfaces, calm rooms with no clutter and an easy way around the place to just ‘top-up’ clean – I am, by nature a creative mess maker. And clumsy. Very clumsy. Hence, the fancy for a housecoat. But a nice one – with pockets. Something I could feel almost as glamourous in as a nice dress underneath. Actually, I’ve always been quite taken with 1920’s fashion and so a pair of flouncy silk day pyjamas under a fabulous housecoat (with pockets) would be ideal especially now it is a rare occasion to leave the house.

Speaking of housework. With us all in lockdown and the weather flip-flopping between spring and winter, it feels as if it is the perfect time to have a good old sort out of the house. Overflowing cupboards, wardrobes and drawers could be purged and the house given a jolly good spruce up. But, there is one huge flaw in this plan. What to do with all of the things you decide to get rid of? We can’t take things to the recycling centre or to charity shops and unless you are lucky enough to have a spare storage shed sitting empty to stash it all in, the only option is to have it hanging around in boxes and bags getting in the way – or just putting it all back where it came from.

I thought I’d found a perfect thing to crack on with sorting out that wouldn’t cause too much excess to get rid of. That was to finally gather up all my hand-scribbled recipes, together with those I have torn out of magazines or printed off and get them sorted and all in the same place in some discernible order. And that is what I did. Or rather, that is what I started. Two recipes written up neatly and then a glance at the huge pile to go and I gave up. And wrote this instead.

But, one of the two recipes I did manage to write up was for what I am calling, ‘Molly’s Muffin Loaf.’ For the recipe and to find out why it is called that, just click on the link here.

Molly’s Muffin Loaf

It was my niece’s birthday recently but with us all in lock down we were, of course, unable to be with her. But, that did not stop cake in our family, oh no. It merely increased it. We held a remote family bake off with the theme of ‘fruit’ chosen by the birthday girl. We shared pictures of ourselves with whisks and spatulas held aloft and aprons donned as the start time approached and then many, many more as the baking continued. In all, seven bakes were made – one even all the way in New Zealand. The thing we all came to realise though, almost a week later, was that not being able to share our cakes with each other, we had to eat them all by ourselves. Oh well.

Here was my contribution which only seemed fitting to be named after the birthday girl.

Molly’s Muffin Loaf: An orange, blueberry and cinnamon muffin cake with orange glaze – gluten free

Ingredients:

170g (6oz) gluten free plain flour

50g (2oz) gluten free oatmeal

170g (6oz) butter

170g (6oz) soft brown sugar

3 eggs

2 tbs flaxseed

1 ½ tsp gluten free baking powder

1 tsp cinnamon

Pinch of salt

Zest of 2 large oranges

Small punnet of blueberries

Method:

Cream the butter and sugar together

Beat in the eggs, one at a time

Fold in the dry ingredients and then the orange zest and the blueberries (I like to slightly crush the blueberries to make sure some of the juice mixes with the cake.)

Bake in a oven pre-heated to 160°C (fan) for 45 minutes, or until knife comes out clean

While the cake is baking, simmer the juice from the oranges with some brown sugar until it is thicker. Remove cake from oven and prick all over with a fork then spoon the glaze over. Leave in tin for ten minutes to really soak in.

Tales from the kitchen: Not-at-all Cottage Pie

This week, I found myself one morning in my pyjamas waiting for potatoes to come up to the boil and pondering upon the difficulties of naming food. I don’t mean pointing at a long yellow fruit (or rather more botanically accurately, herb) and pronouncing it to be a banana but rather giving dishes/meals a name.

I was in my PJ’s cooking because my singing group, The Kettle Girls, would be round that evening for tea and practice and due to being back at the hospital in the afternoon (once again to the Pain Clinic – a name I still find bemusing and think perhaps the word ‘Management’ really does need to be added into the middle), and various other things, there wouldn’t be time to cook later.

After wandering in from heading down the garden to open the greenhouse, MOTH said, “Smells good, what is it?” The only reply I could think of was, “Not-at-all Cottage Pie.”

Cottage Pie is an iconic dish, we all know what it is and despite there being some variants, the main constituents are, as standard. What I was making was Quorn mince, mushroom and chickpeas in an herby vegetable gravy with sweet potato mash on top. Similar enough in end-result-looks (apart from being quite a vivid orange), but if you were to put ‘cottage pie’ on a menu and then serve this up; I think there would be rather a lot of grumbling.

Short of listing all the main ingredients and how they will be presented or put together, it seems tricky to come up with meal names. Growing up we had variations of ‘slop.’ This sounds terrible but it is a term I have continued to use, forgetting that from the outside, it could be considered the least appealing of descriptions. In essence, it just means, something, in some sort of gravy or sauce, for instance: chicken and vegetable slop, mince slop or perhaps, sausage and bean slop. Then, it was either a gravy or tomato choice for the wet part. These things are then accompanied by rice, pasta, cous cous, bread or whatever suits you or the meal best.

And here’s a question: if you have come up with a name that is quite accurate and descriptive, what happens if you change an ingredient? Is this a new meal? Do you need to give it a new name? I am always swapping things about and I more-often-than-not, don’t measure anything, so amounts change each time I cook – this means the dishes I make are often never the same.

Social media regularly throws out images of ridiculous trendy menus which now leave the customer having to guess at not only the price (it would seem it is not ‘cool’ to use the pound sign or decimal points and so you get a generic numeral hovering somewhere about the menu), but also, the food choices are written in such sparse form it’s a bit of pot-luck what you may end up with. For example: Chicken 11. This is the extreme-end far removed from the thorough listing of all possible ingredients in a dish.

I really enjoy cooking but I think that if I were to appear on Masterchef, the only round I would stand a chance at would be the invention test and I’m not sure that presenting John and Gregg with a dish called ‘beef slop and rice’ would cut the mustard. But, unless I ever decide to release a cook book; in our household, we will continue to have meals with names that do a job, even if they are not the best.

Click here for my recipe for, ‘Not-at-all Cottage Pie’

Not-at-all Cottage Pie: Recipe

Not-at-all Cottage Pie: a vegetarian alternative

Serves 4

Ingredients: (for the base)

300g Quorn mince
300g tin of chickpeas
8 medium sized mushrooms cut into chunks
1 small (or half a large) brown onion, diced
1 clove of garlic
1/2 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp mixed herbs
1/2 tsp oregano
Salt and pepper
1 oz (30g) butter (or butter alternative) to make a roux
1 dessert spoon of flour (I use rice flour, but plain is fine) for the roux
600ml of vegetable stock

For the mash:

2 large sweet potatoes
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
Mixed herbs

Method: (for the main)

Melt the butter and soften the onion, add the garlic and cumin and fry for around a minute
Make a roux by adding the flour then gradually add the stock until it is all incorporated and smooth
Add all remaining ingredients and cook gently for 10-15 minutes

Method: (for the mash)

Peel and chop the sweet potatoes and boil them until soft (around ten minutes)
Drain and mash with around 1 tbsp of olive oil, salt and pepper to taste and a sprinkling of mixed herbs

Put the main mix in an oven proof dish and spread the mash evenly over the top, using a fork to rough the potato into peaks.

Cook in a pre-heated oven at 190°C (fan) for 30 minutes and serve with fresh greens.

This recipe can easily be gluten free and vegan by using rice flour, checking to make sure your vegetable stock cube (if used) is gluten free and vegan (you’d be surprised how many aren’t) and by using a dairy alternative ‘butter.’

Click here to read my short blog on how the name for this recipe came about

Lentil, tomato and spinach soup with popped pumpkin seeds

Makes 2 large bowls

Ingredients:

150g red lentils
600ml vegetable stock
1 tbsp vegetable oil
1/2 brown onion
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
1/2 tin chopped tomatoes (around 200g)
1 tsp paprika
1/2 tsp turmeric
Salt and pepper to taste (I prefer lots of black pepper and only a little salt as the stock cube will have salt in too)
1/4 tsp dried oregano
1 large handful of spinach, finely chopped

Method:

Heat the oil gently and soften the onions
Add the paprika and turmeric and cook for 1-2 minutes, stirring
Add the garlic and tomatoes, cook for 3-4 minutes then blitz/blend and return to pan
Add the stock, lentils, salt, pepper and oregano, cook until the lentils are soft – around 20 minutes, stirring occasionally (lentils can have a habit of sticking to the bottom of the pan).
Add the finely chopped spinach and cook for 1-2 minutes
Serve with popped pumpkin seeds sprinkled on top

Popping pumpkin seeds:

Heat a non-stick pan on a high heat, dry (no oil or butter)
When hot, add the pumpkin seeds, stir or flip regularly so they don’t burn, until they stop popping
Put the popped seeds in a bowl and season with salt and pepper. (You can add other spices such as paprika or chilli for extra flavour and heat.)

To read my blog about cooking this in deep winter, click here

Tales from the kitchen: The Beast

As I write, we are in the clutches of the beast; that is, The Beast from the East, as the very cold weather we are having this February and March has been dubbed. I admit to being cynical about just how bad it would be, let’s face it, it wouldn’t be the first time something was over-hyped, but for once, it seems the predictions were correct.

We are currently snowed in. Not into our house per se, but the small rural village we live in is inaccessible from either side, residing as it does, at the top of a hill. Despite the efforts of the local farmers going out to try and clear the roads, the wind is continuously blowing banks of snow back again This has resulted in a tailback of stationary cars at the bottom of the hill, unable to proceed.

As lunchtime approached, let’s face it there was only one thing to be done: soup. I fancied something thick and hearty and with a good bit of flavour – if only to try and penetrate through the horrible cold I have been sneezing my way through for nearly a week.

So, I set abut a lentil, tomato and spinach soup (a link to my recipe is included below) but, distracted by Big Cat, who is momentously bored due to being stuck indoors because of the snow, I had a false start. Perhaps I should begin the recipe instructions as follows: once you have set your onions softening, do not get distracted trying to find various bits of string, elastic, beads and the such to make further impromptu cat-entertaining toys to hang from various door frames etc – because your forgotten onions will burn and you will have to begin again.

Big Cat is a very amiable fellow and will often spend hours during the day running around the garden chasing mainly leaves and insects. He is not a natural hunter and when he does catch something, he tends to wander around with it in his mouth, unharmed, looking at you as if to say, ‘This is mine. I don’t know what I do with it now, but it’s mine, yes?’ The general rule of thumb in our house is, if we manage to get a caught critter from Big Cat, it will be happily and healthily released back into the wild. If Small Cat (who is quite possibly 89% evil) catches something – there is no hope for it, whatsoever.

Big Cat has been mooching about, following me around for the last two days, shouting at me as if I were deliberately not clearing the snow away so he can go out and play. Small Cat just sleeps, demands food and occasionally pulls drying washing off the rack to attack it before chasing his brother around the house.

As the soup steamed up the windows and filled the house with gentle spice aromas, it was time to pop the pumpkin seeds. If you have never done this, I suggest you give it a go. Not only does it result in a tasty snack or topping – but it is fun too. As they heat, puff and then split they tend to jump skyward, left and right as they pop. Enthusiastic errant seeds can zoom across the room a good couple of feet if they are feeling particularly feisty. When the outer layers have split and you put them in a bowl with a little seasoning, they make a wonderful crunchy popping, sizzling sound as they cool.

It may be -14 out there with the wind chill today, I may be wearing six layers, plus three pairs of socks, scarf and hat in the house and had to scrape ice off the inside of the windows earlier, but it is all worth it because it made me make this lunch. I love it when food is a pleasure and is somehow fitting to the occasion. There would have been no satisfaction eating this on a hot summer day, but today, it couldn’t have been more perfect.

For my lentil, tomato and spinach soup topped with popped pumpkin seeds recipe, click here