The Nervous Forager

As I mentioned in my last post, I recently moved into a new house. I had been so excited to have my own space again, with room for a garden, my sewing and writing and other various projects. But the first few weeks here, as exciting as the possibilities were, I was starting to think I’d made a terrible mistake. As a child, and I hate to admit but also as a teenager and an adult, I’ve had a fear of someone coming into my house, my room, with the intention to bring me harm. I was fearful as a child, always fretting at the slightest noise, imagining a kidnapper climbing through my window and taking off with me in the night. It sounds crazy when I put it down on paper, but it was unfortunately what I felt as soon as the lights went out. I no longer have a fear of being kidnapped, but I’m yet to grow out of my habit of laying awake, listening to the noises and imagining the worst possible scenario. So my first few weeks on ground level, with windows that could be looked in, doors that could be opened and a rather large backyard that could easily house a multitude of shady characters, I struggled to relax.

But as time is wearing on I’m learning the noises of the house, the creaks and groans and the comings and goings of the neighbours. I know the latch on the power box near my window makes a weird scraping noise and the gate clangs when it’s windy. And I know my cat bangs against the window when he wants to come in! I still get nervous, but I’m also starting to get excited again.

So his weekend I had some ladies over for afternoon tea. I got out my antique cake plates and forks and my silver tea pot and hosted my first afternoon tea in my new place. It was lovely. As were the burnt butter and honey madelines I made (recipe to follow)

My antique platesBut I also got out into my garden and discovered some treasures. There are herbs like rosemary and parsley; veggies such as silverbeet and cabbage; and other goodies like broad beans and sweet peas. But the thing I was most thrilled by were the potatoes. In what I thought was just a bag of soil, I discovered some gorgeous purple gems that were baby potatoes.

Veggies in my gardenMy catConsidering I had Sunday lunch with Mr M’s family, I didn’t need a big protein dinner; so I decided to forage in my own backyard. I settled on potatoes, silver-beet and zucchinis (which to be honest I got the latter from the supermarket but the rest were from the garden).

My HarvestI boiled the potatoes and finished them off in the oven with some garlic and thyme until their skins were crispy.

Bakes potatoes and sautéed greensThe greens I sautéed in butter with some lemon zest and chilli.

Eating dinnerI have to say, I have never tasted potatoes quite like that before. I can’t wait to dig further down into that bag and see if there are anymore surprises buried deep in soil.

8 thoughts on “The Nervous Forager

  1. I have always felt that way – that someone is certainly going to be in my cupboard, or trying to get in my balcony door (which I keep forgetting to lock by the way), however it does get better when you learn the noises of your new place, or live somewhere hard to get into! I hope to have a garden I can plant such vegies in one day soon, but have to make do with the local Richmond farmers market..


  2. Pingback: ‘Tis the Season, for Cake! « A Writers Larder

  3. Pingback: A Writers Larder

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