Gluts of fresh food, either straight from the tree or from the mountain in the freezer, are always inspirational when it comes to planning a meal for entertaining.
I believe the real meaning of our existence is to be found in soil … in its alchemy, in its mystery, in its eros. Terra Illuminata. It’s where life begins and it is where life ends.
When planning a brunch, I find it helpful to prepare food that doesn’t have to be eaten as soon as it is cooked — that doesn’t collapse like a soufflé, or won’t spoil like soft poached eggs.
While planning this post, I realized I had no idea where or how food preservation began.
Rosella, or to some, Wild Hibiscus.
I could stare at a rosella plant in the same way our Jack Russell stares into the branches of a mukwa tree after spotting a squirrel. For hours and hours.
If I’ve learned anything about living as we do — off the land, and overwritten by the principle of enoughness — it’s patience.
