Fecundity and a good gravy

And then all of a sudden there is more light in the mornings and evenings and you could fool yourself into thinking that winter is behind us and we are into the first few footsteps of spring.

Out in the garden this afternoon I decided to try ruin what is already a knackered back and dig over those parts of the veg patch where garlic isn’t growing. All of the soil was covered with small shoots of green growth which had to be picked out with my fingers before I could start with the fork.

There was a fecundity about. I was still pulling away the dead brown of lasts years growth and all around another season was pushing its way up about to start.

Then this evening I stumbled on the best gravy ever.

It was the Farmer’s Market yesterday and as normal I bought myself a chicken to roast on Sunday.

All was done as I have done countless times before except that I stirred into the gravy a couple of spoonfuls of quince paste. Almost without me realising what I had done it took the food on to something else. There was no sweetness about it, just a full blooded taste of something good.


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