Allô! 👋

Welcome (back) to seasonal sundays, the fortnightly supplement to good food at home, where we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, at least one recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. If you’re a new subscriber and would like to read the previous issues, you can click here to find them!

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Happy Sunday!

I hope you’re all doing well and finding ways to enjoy November, in spite of recent and ongoing world events.

On today’s menu, to help take your mind off of it all, we’ve got an introduction to quinces, honey, and chestnuts, plus two recipes: one for honey-poached quinces (+ a bonus cheat’s quince jelly) and one for subtly-chocolatey chestnut madeleines. To finish, we end with a Q&A on what to do about plastic and non-stick in the kitchen.

Otherwise, an announcement: following the publication of this issue, payments will be put on hold for seasonal sundays subscribers. I know, I’m sad about it too. As mentioned in the last newsletter, I’ve just moved! The place I’m in now is a bit of a fixer-upper and doesn’t exactly have a proper working kitchen, so the paid newsletter issues will have to be moved to the back burner until the kitchen is “fixer-uppered” and can be properly used again. If all goes to plan, seasonal sundays will be back up and running again in early 2025. Meanwhile, the free good food at home newsletters will continue, with their usual tentative publication date on the last day of every month.

As always, hope you enjoy today’s read and recipes!

Wishing you all warming, restoring, and comforting days ahead.

— Simone⁣⁣

P.S. If you enjoy this post, please do kindly give it a ❤️ — it really helps make it more visible so others can find it too!

While summer was all about doing anything and everything to avoid having to turn on an oven or stand in front of a hot stove, the transition into late autumn is all about keeping the oven running, the stovetop humming, and the fireplace crackling. What better way then to embrace the cold and dark than to make soothing, remedying, and pacifying meals all while keeping your home a toasty, warmly lit refuge from the doom and gloom outside.

For me, November is synonymous with slowly simmering the season’s last freshly picked quinces, roasting the year’s first chestnuts, and sweetening anything that needs a mellowing touch with a healthy drizzle of this year’s honey.

Below, some tips for making the most of these three:

HOW TO SHOP FOR, STORE, AND USE: QUINCES

Although quinces are in season during the autumn months, typically from September through to November in the Northern Hemisphere, their availability can also extend into early winter, depending on the region and climate. Native to regions around the Caucasus, Iran, and Central Asia, quinces thrive in temperate climates and are cultivated in many parts of the world — from the Mediterranean to the Americas and Oceania, they can even be grown as far north as the UK and Norway.

shopping

This definitely depends on where you live, but, in my experience, if you’re looking to buy quinces, big supermarkets and large grocery chains are most likely to let you down. Instead, turn to your local greengrocer (the Turkish ones tend to be a treasure trove), farmers’ markets, or that friendly neighbour with the unmistakeable tree (they’re bound to have more quinces than they know what to do with). Choose fruit that feel heavy for their size. A coating of fluff is more than fine — in fact, it suggests freshness — and a russet patch here or there is okay too, but you’ll want to steer clear of fruit with bruises or soft spots. (Note that unripe quinces will be green, turning progressively yellow as they ripen from within. The ripest ones will be unmistakeable: golden, firm, and with an irresistible aroma reminiscent of honeyed roses — a sweet floral scent that hints at the delicious potential beneath their tough, fuzzy skin.)

storage

Back home, give any quinces you plan on using soon pride of place in a spot where you’ll be able to admire them with all of your senses: think of them as natural air fresheners! They can stay at room temperature, out of direct sunlight, for up to a week. Placed in a sealed bag or container, however, they can keep in the fridge for up to a month. For quinces that you’d like to store for even longer, keep them in a cool, dark place (like a garage, cellar, or dedicated pantry/unheated cupboard) between 0–4°C/32–40°F, placed in a box or tray in a single layer (with gaps between each fruit), away from other produce. Stored this way, and checked on regularly, unblemished barely-ripe quince can typically keep for 3 months.

uses

Once golden and ripe, let their heady perfume draw you in. While quinces look somewhat like pears, you should most definitely not bite into one raw. Though certain varieties can be enjoyed left uncooked, simply prepared by thinly slicing and rubbing with fresh citrus, most quinces will be a lot more pleasant to eat once cooked. When ready to use, coax them into submission with slow, patient cooking. Quinces can be grated and added to apple and pear desserts where their fellow fruit will be roasted, or simply, as is more common, slowly poached or roasted until their firm pale flesh yields to reveal a tender sweet flavour within. Slow candying turns them into amber jewels, and many love to push the limit and cook their quince for hours on end, until they eventually reveal a deep ruby blush. Whether stirred into yogurt or crowning a buttery sponge, ready to elevate a simple tart or spooned over a creamy panna cotta, they never fail to deliver a moment of indulgence.

HOW TO SHOP FOR, STORE, AND USE: HONEYS

Honey, oh sweet honey! Though it is available to enjoy year-round, it’s good to know that most honey varieties are harvested between late spring and late summer — with some harvests occurring as late as early fall — depending on the local microclimate and the flowers in bloom. This means that any honey you enjoy today will, in essence, be a sweet capsule of sunshine and fresh blossoms from sunnier days gone. What a delight!

shopping

When shopping for honey, look for raw, unfiltered varieties if you want the full spectrum of flavour and potential health benefits. Labels like “local” and “single-origin” can be clues to unique and distinct flavour profiles, reflecting the flora of a particular region (and there’s always a special pleasure in tasting the honey made from the nature that had, earlier in the year, been blooming right around you!).

While supermarket honey is convenient, it’s often blended and pasteurised, which can dull its flavour and mute its character. Instead, farmers’ markets, specialty stores, or direct purchases from beekeepers often yield higher-quality options, and in a much more diverse array. Endless varieties of honey exist, each influenced by the blossoms the bees visit, though the most common ones on the market include clover honey, which is mild and sweet, wildflower honey (a more robust and varied variety), acacia honey, which is delicate and floral, and buckwheat honey: a dark, rich, and almost molasses-like variety. Honey can be runny, sometimes straight from the hive and still unprocessed on the comb, or instead creamed or whipped — crystallised for a smooth and luscious, spreadable texture. The best way to discover what you like is to try as many as you can.

storage

You’ll want to store your honey in a cool, dark place, in a tightly sealed container. Avoid the fridge — it speeds up crystallisation, though crystallised honey is perfectly fine to eat (just warm it gently to restore its smooth texture) — and don’t worry too much about expiration dates. Honey’s low moisture content, high sugar levels, and natural antibacterial properties mean it won’t spoil if kept properly.

uses

Honey’s versatility makes it an essential in any kitchen. Drizzle it over creamy yogurt, spread it on warm buttery toast, or swirl it into fragrant tea. Add a touch of sweetness to salad dressings or use it in marinades, where it works its caramelising magic. In baking, honey brings moisture and a delicate aroma — perfect for complementing quince’s natural sweetness or keeping madeleines delectably tender. For a simple yet luxurious treat, pair honey with cheese, fresh fruit, nuts, and crackers. Experiment with combinations: wildflower honey with tangy goat’s cheese, or dark buckwheat honey alongside ripe figs and walnuts. A spoonful stirred into warm milk, of course, remains the ultimate comfort: a balm for body and soul.

HOW TO SHOP FOR, STORE, AND USE: CHESTNUTS

Chestnuts season is well and truly here. Often easy to spot in city parks across temperate climates, chestnuts are usually harvested in autumn, typically from late September through November, as they fall naturally from the trees when fully ripe. They’re at their best and most widely available during the cooler months, making them a quintessential fall and winter ingredient, with varieties like the European sweet chestnut and the Asian chestnut most common, while the American chestnut, once abundant, has become a rare treat due to widespread blight.

shopping

When selecting chestnuts, aim to choose ones that feel heavy for their size, with glossy, firm shells free of cracks, holes, or mould. Avoid chestnuts that rattle when shaken, as this can indicate they’ve dried out — freshness is key, as chestnuts are perishable compared to other nuts, and should be nice and creamy as opposed to crunchy when you give them a bite. Another way to check this before buying a chestnut is to give is a squeeze: it should feel hard, with no give. If you feel space between the shell and the nut inside, it’s likely old, shrivelled, and past its prime. Good to know: a visit to a farmers’ market or specialty store will often provide fresher, higher-quality options than a standard supermarket.

storage

Fresh chestnuts, once home, should be stored in the refrigerator in a breathable container — think paper bags — to help retain their moisture. Stored this way, they’ll stay fresh for up to two weeks. If you’d like to keep them longer, you can peel them, either raw or cooked, then freeze them for later. Dried chestnuts and chestnut flour, on the other hand, can simply be tucked into an airtight container and kept in a cool, dark place.

uses

Chestnuts have a slightly sweet, nutty flavour and a soft, creamy texture when cooked. Subtle, but oh so comforting. One of the most popular ways to enjoy chestnuts is to roast them, especially over fire (if you haven’t experienced this firsthand at a winter market, you may have at least heard a song about it). At home, roasting in the oven is a simple and satisfactory substitute. They can also be boiled, steamed, or pureed for soups, stuffings, or desserts like Mont Blanc (though, a word to the wise: always score their shells before cooking to prevent any dramatic bursts as steam will build up inside the hard outer shell). Their versatility shines in savoury dishes like pasta, risotto, or paired with Brussels sprouts and bacon, butternut squash and sage. Meanwhile, their sweet potential is equally delightful: chestnut flour, made from dried nuts, is a star in gluten-free baking or, for example, traditional treats like the rustic Tuscan cake, castagnaccio.

BONUS TIP: SORTING THE GOOD FROM THE BAD

One extra thing to know about chestnuts is that they won’t always be fresh or good to eat. As alluded to above, sometimes chestnuts get old and dried out, sometimes a critter crawls into them, sometimes they get mouldy. Please don’t let any of this put you off — instead, learn to recognise what makes a chestnut good to eat. A simple water test can help sort the treasures from the disappointments. Once home, submerge your shiny, unblemished, heavy-for-their-size chestnuts in water. Any that float are likely inedible. The ones that sink? They’re your golden ticket — perfect for roasting, simmering, or transforming into something delicious.

There’s something about the sun setting before 4pm (and most of the light being gone shortly after 2pm) that just makes me want to slow down in the kitchen (it also sometimes makes me want to crawl into a comfortable cave and hibernate until March, but that’s another matter).

Be it by gently poaching honey-scented wedges of quince for hours on end, or in taking the time to blanch, roast, peel, toast, then grind chestnuts into my own chestnut “flour”, somehow these seasonal comforts seem to make the passing of ever-shortening days and lengthening nights feel quite alright — if not an absolute delight.

Below is my go-to recipe for poached quinces, plus a method for making my (might I say) delightfully addictive, subtly chocolatey, chestnut madeleines. If you don’t already have a metal madeleine mould at home, you can use a mini muffin tin, or even just muffin moulds placed on a baking sheet. (They won’t quite have the same shape, but it’s the texture and flavour that count!) If cake is more up your alley, you may want to give this glorious quince and chestnut cake a try instead.

[Note: as always, today’s recipes are available to download in a printable PDF down below.]

honey-poached quince ✨

This recipe requires relatively little active effort on your part — all you have to do is slice and core some quinces, then pop them into a quick-poaching liquid — but, for the most dazzling results, committing to this recipe will require a bit of patient foresight: the quinces are most flavoursome and colourful after a long poach, plus a night spent chilling in their poaching liquid. If you’re short on time, however, you can also achieve delicious (albeit less pink) wedges of heavenly-perfumed fruit and poaching liquor in as little as an hour and a half.

Wonderful with yogurt or porridge for breakfast, with cake, ice cream or plain mascarpone for dessert, or simply as a sweet, standalone treat. All you really need is a spoon — and someplace quiet to swoon.

HONEY-POACHED QUINCE

makes approx. 16 wedges, or roughly 5 servings (breakfast for every day of the work week!)

INGREDIENTS

Read more

Allô! 👋

Welcome (back) to seasonal sundays, the supplement to good food at home where we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, at least one recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. If you’d like to receive these letters straight in your inbox, feel free to hit the subscribe button below!

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Happy Sunday! I hope these early days of November have been treating you well.

This week, we’re putting the spotlight on pumpkins, gourds, and autumn cucurbits of all kinds. I’m currently in the middle of a move (yes, another one) and half my things are in boxes, so I hope you’ll allow me a bit of “pumpkin retrospective”, so to speak — in addition to four new recipes, we’ll be exploring the best and easiest ways to use winter squashes via some of the season’s most popular and comforting dishes: soups, stews, pastas, pancakes, risottos, salads, and roasts.

On today’s newsletter menu, we’ve got an introduction to winter squashes, followed by two base recipes, plus ten recipes and ideas tailored to different winter squash varieties, and, to finish, a quick Q&A on why I don’t feature seafood or meat in my recipes.

Hope you’ll enjoy!

Wishing you a beautiful day and lots of gorgeous meals ahead

— Simone⁣⁣

P.S. If you enjoy this post, please do kindly give it a ❤️ — it really helps make it more visible so others can find it too!

While the season for harvesting pumpkins and other winter squashes is now mostly over, the time for enjoying them has only just begun. In late August and early September, when the first winter squashes were arriving on market stalls, we still had tomatoes, eggplants, plums, and melons to tantalise us. Now that November has arrived, however, winter squashes are at last leaning into their spotlight, proving themselves to be the true stalwarts we know we’ll be able to rely on, all winter long*.

*this is, in fact, how these cucurbits got their name — they are “winter squashes”, not because they grow or are harvested in winter (they don’t, and they’re not), but because they can be stored and savoured all winter long!

Some winter squash facts and tips you may find useful this season:

PEAK SEASONALITY

Early to mid-autumn.

AVAILABILITY

Late summer through to late winter, or even early spring.

COMMON VARIETIES

• Butternut squash

• Red kuri squash / onion suqash / Hokkaido pumpkin

• Delicata squash

• Crown Prince pumpkin

• Acorn squash

• Delica pumpkin

• Cinderella / Fairytale / Rouge vif d’Étampes

• Kabocha squash

• Sugar and pie pumpkins

• Honeynut squash

• Musquée de Provence

• Hubbard squash

• Spaghetti squash

Many more varieties exist, of course, but the ones above are among some of the most commonly sold for consumption, rather than decoration (though the edible kinds can also make for lovely displays).

WINTER SQUASHES: WHERE TO FIND THEM

Look for winter squashes at farmers’ markets or at farm stands (for the most uncommon varieties), at your local greengrocers and specialty grocery stores (for “gourmet” varieties), or in supermarkets (for the more familiar varieties).

WINTER SQUASHES: SHOPPING TIPS

Seek out winter squashes that are heavy for their size, with hard skins, and without any large soft, wrinkling, dark or discoloured spots. A ripe winter squash should make a hollow sound when tapped, and a well-cured one — i.e. one that has been properly dried for long-term storage — will have a long, hard dried-out stem (though note that not all winter squash varieties require curing). A few raised, dried-out, scars are usually fine (any undesirable bits can easily be peeled or cut away if you plan on eating the skin), and while pale spots from where the pumpkin lay in the field are not universal, they are completely normal and nothing to worry about. Squashes with missing stems or slight blemishes are still edible but do know that won’t keep as long, so plan to use these sooner.

WINTER SQUASHES: STORAGE & SHELF-LIFE

Most whole winter squashes should be kept in a cool, dry place† (10–15°C / 50–59°F at 60–70% humidity, if you can measure it) — ideally in a cardboard or vegetable crate, up on a shelf or off the ground if you can, making sure to leave a bit of a gap between each squash. Once cut, wrap a winter squash well, store it in the refrigerator, and cook it within 3–5 days.

If you want to be sure that your winter squashes are well-cured before storing them, you can place them on a rack somewhere well-ventilated, dry, and warm (even sunny) for up to 7–10 days before transferring them to cool storage. Check on stored winter squashes weekly, making sure to remove and eat any with developing blemishes or soft spots first.

Note that different varieties will have different shelf-lives. While varieties like acorn and honeynut squash will generally only keep for up to 4–5 weeks, spaghetti, butternut, and kabocha squash varieties usually have shelf-lives ranging from 1–3 months, and others like Hubbard tend to store for up to 6 months. Other varieties, like Jarrahdale, can even last up to 2 years!

†One exception is acorn squash, which generally is not cured as the process reduces its shelf-life and quality, and therefore requires cooler temperatures for storage.

WINTER SQUASHES: AROMA & TASTE

Sweet, starchy, and nutty; not unlike a cross between a sweet potato and a dry, floury potato (depending on the variety and squash type). Some are buttery, others earthy or musky; some very sweet and flavoursome, others mild and a little dry. A few varieties are stringy and rather flavourless, while others are outright bitter — these decorative types are often described as “ornamental only”, even though all winter squash varieties are entirely edible (you just may not want to bother cooking with some of them).

WINTER SQUASHES: USES & PREPARATION

Although every part of a winter squash is edible, some varieties have thick skins that can be unpleasant to eat. Most thin skins can be eaten, or removed before cooking simply by peeling away with a vegetable peeler — while thicker, knobbly skins are usually easiest to remove after cooking (though you can also cut them away before cooking if that’s more suitable). Dried stems are always best removed before cooking, and can usually be knocked off with the back of a knife.

Pumpkins and other winter squashes are most commonly cooked — steamed, roasted, fried, or even grilled — to be eaten right away, but are also marvellous simmered in brine and left to pickle in a jar, processed into sweetly spiced jam, or even dehydrated into pumpkin “chips”, “leather”, or powder. Many varieties also taste quite nice raw, though you’ll want to thinly shred or shave them (as with beetroot or kohlrabi, say) to make them more digestible.

Personally, I’m more of a cook-and-enjoy-straight-away type of winter squash aficionado.

Below are two base recipes I turn to over and over again when I want to cook with winter squashes, plus ten dishes to use them in, each featuring different varieties best suited to them:

base recipe one

WINTER SQUASH PURÉE

yields approx. 55g of purée per 100g of winter squash / 1 US cup of purée per lb of squash

You’ll need:

Read more

Allô! 👋

Welcome (back) to seasonal sundays, the weekly-ish supplement to good food at home, where we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, at least one recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. If you’re a new subscriber and would like to read the previous issues, you can click here to find them!

Subscribe now

Happy Sunday!

Welcome to mid-autumn.

The first frosts arrived this week in my little corner of southeast Norway, covering farms and gardens alike with a crisp blanket of crystals, sparkling in the morning light. For us, this marks the end for any uncovered late-summer produce that’s yet to be harvested and preserved (I’m looking at you, tomatoes and peppers), but is good news otherwise: for many fall and winter crops, a little bit of frost means a lot more flavour.

This week, I’m focusing not only on the ongoing multitude of crops currently freshly available — potatoes, carrots, onions, rutabaga, celeriac, fennel, celery, and more — but also on one particular crop that loves a bit of a frosty nip in the air: cabbage.

In today’s newsletter, we’ve got an intro to cabbage varieties and how to enjoy them, followed by two recipes to soothingly embrace the season, and lastly, a Q&A on gently guiding others towards healthy change (a topic after my own heart!).

As always, I hope you’ll enjoy the read and the recipes.

Wishing you all a gentle, cosy transition into mid-autumn,

— Simone

Cabbage! Not the poshest of vegetables, perhaps, but really, that’s part of its charm —those who turn their nose up at it are missing out on something quietly wonderful. Cabbages come in all shapes, sizes, and forms. Interestingly, they belong to the same family as kales, cauliflower, collard greens, and even kohlrabi; vegetables that all stem (pardon the pun) from the same wild mustard plant originally.

Cabbages have of course been in season since mid-summer, but what makes this family of veg so interesting at this time of year is their hardiness; they not only tolerate frost, they thrive on it. Combine this with their ability to keep for months on end, and you’ve got yourself a perfect companion for wholesome fall and winter cooking.

Below, some tips to help you make the most of this versatile vegetable during the coming hearty-food season:

HOW TO SHOP FOR CABBAGE

Cabbages come in many varieties, but no matter the type, freshness is key. There’s no way of knowing how long a head of cabbage has been sitting on a supermarket shelf, or when a grocery store cabbage last saw its farm, so your best bet is to shop local and as directly from farmers as you can, either at farmers’ markets, farm shops, or greengrocers who stock their shelves with locally-grown and newly harvested produce.

Look for heads that feel heavy for their size, with sturdy leaves that seem well-hydrated — avoid limp, yellowing, dried out, or damaged cabbage if you can (though some limpness and damage on the outermost leaves only should be fine). Summer cabbage varieties, selected for their capacity to grow quickly and tolerate heat, will usually have looser leaves and are best eaten soon after harvest, while winter cabbages, with their tightly-packed leaves and long-growing season, will store for much longer.

HOW TO STORE CABBAGE

If stored correctly, cabbage can keep for weeks, even months, after harvest. To store a head for the long-term, keep it whole and unwashed (or patted dry, if wet at harvest or purchase), making sure to keep the tougher outer leaves attached, even you plan on discarding them once you’re ready to eat the cabbage, as these will help keep the more tender leaves inside well-hydrated.

Cabbages like to be kept cold and humid (but not moist), but don’t necessarily need to be refrigerated. The refrigerator’s crisper drawer or a root cellar are the ideal places to store it, though keeping a head or two in a dark unheated room, loosely wrapped in plastic to keep its moisture levels up, should also do the trick if you’re low on fridge space. Once the outer leaves start yellowing, that’s your sign to eat the cabbage ASAP. Spot any sliminess or mould? Time to plop that cabbage into the compost.

HOW TO USE CABBAGE

Cabbage is delightful raw, barely tender, slow-cooked, and fermented, too. Great in soups, stews, salads, and more, there are a few rules of thumb for making the most out the vegetable in all its forms. First, looser-leafed summer varieties are usually best enjoyed fresh and barely cooked (if cooked at all) as their higher water content and thinner leaves seem to benefit from minimal heat. Tighter-leafed winter varieties, on the other hand, are generally better suited to longer cook times and long-term fermenting; these tend to be sweeter and hardier, after all, thanks to their exposure to frost.

Second, you can make a cabbage last longer by peeling off only the outer leaves as needed, rather than cutting into the whole head. This way, you can store the rest in a cold, humid place for future use.

And lastly, while the core isn’t much fun to eat, it does serve a purpose in the kitchen. If you’re cooking cabbage wedges, leave the core intact to keep the leaves together. Otherwise, simply make sure to carve it out before prepping the leaves from which they grew.

WHAT TO DO WITH: SAVOY CABBAGE

Savoy cabbage, with its beautifully textured, thin-yet-sturdy leaves, is a perfect choice for stuffed cabbage rolls — elegant yet hearty. It also shines when steamed, slowly braised, or patiently basted in butter as it roasts.

WHAT TO DO WITH: NAPA CABBAGE

Napa cabbage, a type of Chinese cabbage, is quite lovely raw, and is right at home sliced into thin strips and tossed through a slaw. It is perhaps though best known as the variety of cabbage used for making kimchi. Once fermented, it does an excellent job of both keeping crisp and also carrying a delicious amount of complex flavour.

WHAT TO DO WITH: POINTED CABBAGE

Pointed cabbages are lovely in all sorts of applications, but they are by far my favourite to char. Cook hard and fast over high heat until the outsides are well-browned and the insides are sweet and tender, then serve with a rich savoury sauce (butter and marmite, tahini and almonds, miso and gochujang — whatever combo strikes your fancy).

WHAT TO DO WITH: ROUND CABBAGE

Round cabbage is the perhaps the prototypical cabbage we all think of when someone utters the word “cabbage”. It’s familiar, friendly, and fuss-free. You can use it in any way you like, but why complicate things when the classics are so good: tossed with carrots, red onion, and a creamy, tangy dressing, round cabbage makes one heck of a slaw.

As the leaves turn from golden to brown and eventually fall to the ground, these darkening days have me hankering for something heartier, something that feels like it might (if only via placebo effect) wield the power to keep the season’s colds and flus at bay. Cabbage, filled with fibre and brimming with vitamin C, always seems to scratch that itch for me. I love it cool and crisp in sauerkraut, or warm and comforting in a soup — and sometimes I even like a mix of the two.

Below is an easy peasy recipe for homemade, lacto-fermented sauerkraut. All you need to make it are two ingredients: cabbage and salt.

And if you’re looking to cook with cabbage (or perhaps sauerkraut) and you’re not quite sure where to begin, I hope today’s recipe for spätzle soup will be just the thing.

[Scroll down for an easy-to-save-or-print PDF of the recipes below.]

how to make sauerkraut ✨

This method won’t ask much of you for it to come together, however it does require a modicum of patience: once you’ve massaged your cabbage strips into their salty brine, you’ll need to let them ferment for at least a week — ideally two or three, and up to six* — before moving them to the refrigerator, where they’ll reward you with tangy goodness for up to six months.

*this all depends on your room temperature: below 16°C/61°F is too cold, while at 18°C/64°F fermentation will take around four to six weeks (and will supposedly yield the best results in terms of colour, texture, flavour and nutrition); 21-24°C (70-75°F) is around the highest room temp you’ll want, though your 'kraut should be ready within one to three weeks, depending on how you like it (start tasting it at the shortest time period in the range given for your room temperature). Room temperatures above 24°C/75°F may be too hot for safe fermentation.

Note: Use the recipe below as a base, and feel free to add your own touches — caraway seeds are a common favourite. Just be sure to keep your salt-to-cabbage ratio within the safe range indicated below.

A SIMPLE SAUERKRAUT

makes one 1-1.5L jar of sauerkraut

INGREDIENTS

• 1 small — or half a large — head of cabbage (Savoy, Napa, pointed, or round), ∼ 600g
• sea salt fine, around 15g
• (optional) fresh water, just boiled + more salt

METHOD

Synopsis: Halve, core, then thinly slice a small head of cabbage. Massage it with salt to produce a brine. Pack the cabbage into a jar, submerge it with brine, then leave it to lacto-ferment at room temperature for one to six weeks. Refrigerate then enjoy for up to six months.

1. Prep the cabbage: remove any wilted or damaged outer leaves from your (clean) cabbage. Slice it in half from top to stalk, then carve out the tough fibrous core that holds the leaves together. Halve each cabbage half lengthwise so that you get four cabbage quarters, then very thinly slice each quarter across its width into slim strips.

2. Do some quick math. Place a large bowl on a scale and tare the weight to zero. Add your cabbage strips to the bowl, then note down or memorise the weight. Calculate 2.25% of the cabbage’s weight and use that number to determine how much salt you will need.

Example:

The shredded cabbage weighs 548 grams.
548 x 0.0225 = 12.33
Therefore, the amount of salt needed is roughly 12 grams.

note: 2% salt is the lowest you can go for safe lacto-fermentation, while 2.5% is probably the highest you can go without your cabbage and brine tasting too salty; I like to calculate 2.25% to get the best of both worlds, but you could instead calculate for 2% and 2.5% separately then make sure to stay somewhere within that range when adding the salt; i.e. in the example above, that would mean somewhere between 10.96 and 13.7 grams.

3. Make some brine (x2): add the calculated amount of salt to the bowl, then massage and squeeze the salt and cabbage together with your hands for a few minutes until the cabbage looks completely bruised and is releasing lots of moisture. Keep going until the salt is dissolved and you can visibly squelch some brine out of a handful of cabbage; then place a small plate over the bowl of cabbage, and pop something heavy onto the plate to press the cabbage down. You’ll want to leave the cabbage alone like this for an hour or two.

Meanwhile, boil up to 500ml of water and place a large glass measuring cup (or other heat-proof container with a pouring lip) onto a scale and tare it to zero. Pour the just-boiled water out into the container and weigh the amount. Add 2.25% of salt to the hot water (approximately 11.25 grams for 500ml of water), swirl it around a little to help it dissolve, then leave the solution to cool.

If the jar you are planning to store the sauerkraut in is not clean yet, please wash and dry it now! You want it large enough to hold all of your cabbage, plus some extra headspace at the top.

4. Transfer to a clean jar and weight/wait. Remove the weight and plate from the cabbage, and give everything a last good pummelling with a wooden spoon, masher, or the end of a French-style rolling pin (the wooden type with no handles). If adding any seasonings, now would be a good time to pop some in!

Transfer the cabbage and its brine into the clean jar in three separate additions, mashing the cabbage into the bottom of the jar as much as you can each time using clean hands or whichever tool you previously used to smash the cabbage. You want to make sure that any air pockets are removed, as well as doing your best to keep the cabbage underneath its own brine. If the cabbage hasn’t produced enough liquid to submerge itself, top it up with the cooled brine you made earlier, just enough to submerge the cabbage completely, all while leaving a little bit of space for expansion at the top.

As the cabbage has a tendency to float up to the surface and the brine is what keeps it from being exposed to oxygen (thus creating a happy environment for the growth of potentially harmful mould and bacteria), you’ll want to place a small weight in your jar to ensure that the cabbage stays submerged — what I like to do is pour the extra brine I made into a small glass container or resealable food storage bag and then pop that over top of the cabbage; that way I can reuse the container at a later date and, if there’s ever a leak in my weighted container, it’ll just be brine going into brine. (Fermentation weights do exist for this specific purpose, but unless I’ll be using them a lot, I personally hate accumulating single-purpose tools in my kitchen.)

Place the closed jar in a dark place where the temperature stays between 18-24 °C/64-75°F. Unscrew or pop the lid daily to avoid any explosions (fermentation produces CO2!), and feel free to start tasting your sauerkraut after the one-week mark (the warmer the space in which you keep the jar, the sooner you’ll have sauerkraut — though do note that a slower, cooler, fermentation tends to yield better results).

5. Refrigerate and enjoy! Once the sauerkraut is to your liking, keep it in the back of your refrigerator to slow the fermentation down almost to a halt. Enjoy as you please and aim to consume the ‘kraut within six months of refrigerating.

Your sauerkraut should be pleasantly sour, have a bit of a crunch to it, and be fairly even in colour and texture. Note that white sediment or residue at the bottom of your jar is nothing to worry about — it’s a completely normal byproduct of fermentation and won’t negatively affect the shelf life or taste of your ‘kraut.

a soothing spätzle soup 🥣

The first time I heard of spätzle was when I was working in a restaurant and we were making them in ginormous batches. One evening, there were more containers prepped than could fit into the fridge for the next day’s service, so one of the cooks gave me a one-litre container loosely filled with them and told me to knock myself out.

I asked what they were. “They’re noodles,” he said, “just put them in soup.” And so I did.

It was only later that I discovered that spätzle are far more versatile than I’d been led to believe. These delightfully soft and slightly chewy morsels go by many names depending on where you are. “Spätzle” is most common in Germany, Austria, and Alsace, referring to “little sparrows”, though they’re also known as Knöpfle, “little buttons.” In Hungary, you have Nokedli or Csipetke, in Slovenia, Vaseršpacli or vodni žličniki, while in the North-East of Italy, you’ll find them as Fierfuli. In Switzerland, they’re Spätzli or Chnöpfli.

For me, though, they’ll forever be “schpetz” — the way my colleague casually referred to them — and I think they’ll always feel most at home in soup.

Note: I believe the proper pronunciation is closer to “SCHPET-sle”, but, to be honest, you probably shouldn’t be taking this tip from me

A SOOTHING SPÄTZLE & CABBAGE SOUP

INGREDIENTS
serves 6-8 (makes great leftovers)

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Allô! 👋

Welcome (back) to seasonal sundays, the supplement to good food at home where we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, at least one recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. If you’d like to help the newsletter grow, feel free to hit the heart button above, or the share button below!

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Happy Sunday! I hope you’re all well.

Like an early fall day that can’t quite decide whether to be warm or cold — sunny or wet — this issue of seasonal sundays contains within it a little bit of it all: apples, pears, almonds, oyster mushrooms, fennel, celery, sweet potatoes, pecans, ginger, and more.

If late summer has come to be known in your household as “Everything Season” (i.e. that time of year where so much fresh food is at its prime that it feels like everything is in season), I hope that, by the end of this newsletter issue, you’ll come to think of early autumn as “Everything Season Part 2”.

On today’s newsletter menu, we’ve got my version of Norwegian apple cake, a nationally beloved dessert to which I’ve added a not-untraditional twist of pears and almonds; “mushrooms milanese”, an autumnal spin on chicken cutlets that I like to serve not just with a fennel celery slaw, but also with a mountain of mash and a cascade of gravy (when in Scandinavia); and, last but not least, a soothing medley of sweet potatoes, pecans, and fresh ginger, which come together beautifully in a moist and warmly spiced sweet potato ginger loaf.

In addition, this week’s intro is all about storing autumn’s harvest for the long run, and, to finish, we’ve got a Q&A on taking the hassle out of housework.

There’s lots to choose from — and hopefully a little something for everyone! As always, I hope you’ll enjoy.

Wishing you a relaxing, cosy day and plenty of comforting meals ahead,

— Simone⁣⁣

This week, I thought it would be useful to focus a little on food storage. More specifically, how to store the ingredients featured in this newsletter so that you don’t end up with mushy apples or pears, fuzzy mushrooms, limp and slimy fennel or celery, wrinkled sweet potatoes, rancid almonds and pecans, or sad, shrivelled ginger.

This is, after all, harvest season — and it would be a great shame not to make it last.

STORING FOOD FOR WINTER

Much like how tomatoes are canned in abundance in the summertime, autumn is also a time where a lot of what is harvested needs to get preserved and stored in one way or another so that we can continue to enjoy that season’s produce all year long.

You don’t need to be a homesteader or have a big ol’ cellar in your home to store some food for winter (or, at least, into late fall). A few tweaks to the summertime modes of storage and a bit of awareness are all that’s needed, and the benefit is well worth the (minimal) effort: buying food in season and storing or preserving it for later is one of the cheapest and easiest ways to ensure that you’ll have access to quality produce for months to come.

As the temperatures drop, cold, dark spaces in your home — places like basements, garages, unheated pantries, draughty larders, or chilly mudrooms — can be especially useful for extending the amount of space you have for storing produce long-term. Even an insulated crate on a balcony or empty wine fridge can do the trick. Once late autumn and winter come around, storing long-lasting produce in these extra spaces becomes extra helpful, especially as it can free up valuable space in your usual refrigerator and cupboards.

Items like potatoes, onions, garlic, cabbages, and winter squashes will all keep perfectly well outside of the fridge, in a dark, well-aerated cold spaces (just keep them out of plastic so they can breathe). Other items like fennel and oyster mushrooms can only stay fresh for so long, so it’s good to know what will keep for days vs weeks vs months, and in what conditions.

A few that are good to know:

potatoes and sweet potatoes

Should be kept cool (not refrigerated), dark, and in relatively high (85-90%) humidity. Store away from ethylene-producing fruit and vegetables like apples and onions.

fennel and celery

Should be kept cold, leafy tops trimmed, tightly wrapped or placed in an airtight container to maintain moisture. (Many recommend wrapping celery in aluminum foil for this purpose). Both can also be frozen, though celery especially would benefit from being blanched first.

nuts

Should be kept somewhere cool and dark, ideally in their shells, sealed in an airtight container. For longer storage, keep in the refrigerator where the shelf-life is approximately six months, or in the freezer where their shelf-life is roughly one year.

onions, shallots and garlic

Should be kept cool (not refrigerated), dark, and in relatively low (65-75%) humidity. Store away from ethylene-sensitive fruit and vegetables like potatoes, carrots, and brassicas.

pears

For short-term storage, ripen at room temperature, then refrigerate in a resealable bag for a few weeks. For long-term storage, choose long-keeping varieties like Anjou, Bartlett, Bosc, and Comice, and store them in a cold, dark place with relatively high humidity. Ripen as needed, and preserve the pears when they begin to ripen after a few months (make pear sauce, freeze, or dry them into rings).

oyster mushrooms

Oyster mushrooms don’t keep for very long and don’t dry all that well, so you’ll want to keep them double-bagged in a rolled up paper bag that’s been popped into a partly closed plastic bag in the fridge (so they can breathe without drying out). If not using within 5 days, fry them up in fat then freeze.

ginger

Fresh ginger can keep refrigerated in a releasable bag for up to a couple of months (just make sure to remove of the air from the bag before sealing and re-sealing) or frozen — whole, sliced, or grated — for up to six months. It can also be pickled in vinegar and refrigerated, or dehydrated and ground, for even longer storage.

apples, part 1

To store apples so they’ll last a few weeks, keep them in a resealable container (like a plastic bag) in the fridge.

apples, part 2 (a deep dive for long-term storage)

To store apples so they last through winter, you’ll first want to pick the right varieties. Some are best eaten right away in fall (usually those that are sweeter, with thin skins), while others are best kept for a few months before using — usually these will have thicker skins and be more tart. Long-keeping varieties include McIntosh, Granny Smith, Braeburn, Golden Delicious, Fuji, Winesap, Honeycrisp, Northern Spy, Rome, and many more.

The next thing to consider is the condition of the apples: firm, unbruised, unblemished apples without cuts are best. Damaged apples will spoil faster and can cause others to rot as well (hence the phrase “one bad apple spoils the bunch”).

Once you’ve selected your apples for storage, the next things to consider are temperature and humidity: store your apples somewhere where the temperature ranges from 0-4°C, ideally where the air is neither too moist (they’ll rot) nor too dry (they’ll shrivel), about 90-95% humidity if you’re able to measure it.

Where you store your apples will be important in terms of what else is in the space too: apples release a ripening gas called ethylene, and should therefore not be stored next to ethylene-sensitive fruit and vegetables that you intend to store for a long time (these include potatoes and cabbages).

How you store your apples is important too. To prevent the spread or rot and maximise airflow in one go, you can wrap each apple individually in newspaper and layer them in vegetable crates lined with shredded paper.

Lastly, check your apples regularly! At least every week or two, check on your apples for any signs of mould or rot and remove any that threaten to spoil the rest of your stash.

Ultimately, storing autumn’s bounty is about watching over temperature, humidity, and those neighbouring ingredients — the quiet details that make all the difference. Many of autumn’s fruits and vegetables can sit contentedly for weeks, even months, outside the fridge, so long as they’re kept somewhere dark and cool, so try to make the most of any unheated spaces in your home as the temperatures drop. The principles I’ve detailed for long-term apple storage also extend beautifully to other produce too, so don’t hesitate to take some notes and take the plunge of long(er) term cold storage. After all, there’s a deep, reassuring pleasure in knowing that you’ve helped the season’s bounty linger, just a little while longer.

This week: two desserts and a meal to make the most of early autumn’s abundance and bounty! (You’ll find a PDF with concise versions of each recipe at the end of this section.)

norwegian apple cake 🇳🇴

Here in Norway, this is a cake that you’ll find at school events, dugnads, and community gatherings, as well as in most grandmothers’ recipe books. It’s one that nearly everybody grew up with — and for good reason. It’s simple to make, delicious, and solves a common problem of “too many apples”: indeed, in Norway, either you or someone you know is bound to have an apple tree, pear tree, plum tree, or cherry tree in their yard, or freely accessible in their neighbourhood (lots of local parks will have fruiting trees in them).

If someone is kind enough to share some of their apples (and pears) with you, baking them this cake is a wonderful way to say thank you.

A NORWEGIAN APPLE & PEAR CAKE (EPLEKAKE MED PÆRER)
makes 8-16 slices, depending on how large your slices are

EQUIPMENT YOU’LL NEED

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Allô! 👋

Welcome (back) to seasonal sundays, the weekly-ish supplement to good food at home, where we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, at least one recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. If you’re a new subscriber and would like to read the previous issues, you can click here to find them!

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Happy Sunday, and happy first day of autumn!
　

I do hope you all had a lovely summer, as today officially marks the beginning of harvest season.

So far, the transition to fall has been easy for me; it's felt autumnal here for some time. The hillside I live on has lately been draped in a dense, gloomy fog each and every morning, and any stroll through the neighbourhood now inevitably involves the spotting of fallen apples and glistening rosehips nestled among orange-tipped trees. The apples and rosehips will linger a little while longer, but for now, my thoughts — and my appetite — are turning toward blackberries, Concord grapes, plums, figs, and dates. These are, after all, the treasures of the season, and until autumn truly settles, they’ll have my full attention.

In today’s newsletter, we’ve got an intro to shopping for dates as well as a tip for cracking walnuts with ease and economy, followed by two recipes to gently welcome the season. To finish, a reader asks me which three cookbooks I’d consider my favourites, and, naturally, I can’t help but answer with five.

As always, I hope you’ll enjoy the read and the recipes.

Wishing you all a deliciously cosy start to the season,

— Simone⁣⁣

P.S. remember how you were split on favouring weekly versus fortnightly seasonal sundays dispatches? I’ve been quite enjoying the current schedule, but I’d love to know how you feel about it — let me know what you prefer in the new reader survey!

As the seasons shift, so too do the colours of our food. Although every time of year offers its own rainbow of produce, each also seems to come with a dominant palette — what was once mostly pale green, pink, and yellow in spring, has deepened through summer into vibrant greens and bright reds, and now turns to dark oranges and dusky purples as September draws to an end.

Two fruits that are particularly wonderful to enjoy “fresh” at this time of year — and especially together — are dates and walnuts.

HOW TO SHOP FOR DATES

Dates come in many varieties but are generally sold in three forms: dried, semi-dried (often labeled “fresh”), and truly fresh.

Fresh dates that are still unripe will be green or pale yellow, while fully ripened ones will take on a deeper, golden hue, like the ones pictured below. At their peak of ripeness, these dates are fleeting, generally only available from late August to September, and can be difficult to find (if dates don’t grow in your country, foreign food stores and specialty grocers will typically be your best bet). When at their peak, these golden gems are crisp and slightly sweet — watery and crunchy if you're lucky, though they can have a tannic sharpness like an unripe persimmon if you’re not. Their flavour, to me, is a delicate mix of pear and honey, with hints of apple, coconut, and sugarcane — a true seasonal delight.

These dates can be hung up to dry in a well-ventilated space, much like lavender or onions that you might want to cure so that they can last longer. Over time, they’ll darken and sweeten as they lose moisture, slowly transforming into the cured, sun-ripened, semi-dried dates with which most of us are familiar.

Often labeled “fresh”, dates at this stage are no longer crunchy but soft, rich, and gooey. These dates are best kept refrigerated in an airtight container as they still hold enough moisture to make them perishable; stored properly, they can last up to six months. Every now and then you may encounter a semi-dried date that has gone off due to excess moisture fostering mould — a sign of spoilage you'll recognise by blackness inside — so it is good practice to always tear a date open and quickly inspect its inner flesh before digging into it with your teeth.

Finally, there are dried dates, the ones with the longest shelf life: these contain the least amount of moisture and tend to be more chewy rather than syrupy. You can keep these at room temperature for up to 6 months, or even a year in the freezer if you like. Their flavour can be a little muted compared to dates at the semi-dried stage, but a quick soak in just-boiled water (or a splash of something more indulgent) is a common method for quickly restoring a bit of lost moisture, as well as reviving some of their soft, luscious sweetness.

In September, fresh and semi-dried dates are seasonal delicacies, but dried dates are a year-round treat.

TIP: HOW TO SAFELY SHELL WALNUTS

While walnuts are available year round, their main harvest runs from mid-September to early November in the Northern Hemisphere (in the Southern Hemisphere, the season runs from mid-March to early May). Freshly cracked walnuts can be a real autumn indulgence, well worth making time for — especially if you know how to crack them cleanly, without making a big mess or needing to buy a single-purpose tool for the job.

To crack open a walnut in its shell, all you need is a butter knife (and perhaps a small dishcloth to steady the nut and protect your hand, especially if, like me, you're occasionally a bit clumsy).

To open the shell, simply begin by finding the seam on the widest end of the shell. This seam should be just wide enough for you to wedge the tip of your butter knife into. Gently insert the knife, then twist it carefully, prying the halves apart. With a little patience, the shell will give way, leaving you to fish out the walnut inside. If you're lucky, you might retrieve the walnut half in one beautiful piece — though more often than not, you'll need to break it up a bit to free it from the shell.

A chill in the misty air brought on a hankering for raisin cinnamon bread the other week, something I don’t think I have eaten for years (growing up, we always got the Sun-Maid brand) and it just so happened that I had just bought some dates. I made a cinnamon-date-walnut loaf, adored it, then set my sights on a fig and walnut number. Even better.

Below is the recipe for a compound butter that tastes like cinnamon-raisin (but better), for when you don’t have the time or inclination to make bread, or would prefer to enjoy it on something else entirely instead (say, oatmeal, pancakes, steamed or roasted sweet potatoes, waffles, crumpets, or even a thick slice of brioche given the indulgent French-toast treatment).

If you have sourdough starter at home and are looking to have some fun with inclusions, I’ve got you covered on that front too: this week’s second recipe is for a fresh fig and walnut bread — though you could make it a date, cinnamon, and walnut loaf instead if you prefer. [Both recipes available in printable PDF form below.]

cinnamon date butter ✨

This recipe takes very little time to come together, however it does require a tiny bit of foresight: you’ll want to leave your butter out at room temperature for this to work properly (please don’t be tempted to speed up the process by putting cold butter in the microwave, on a sunny windowsill, or under a hot bowl — it’ll melt unevenly and just won’t be the same).

note: as always, use the ingredient measurements as guidelines or points of reference, not incontrovertible law; taste and tweak to your liking!

CINNAMON DATE BUTTER

makes approx. 6 Tbsps

INGREDIENTS

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Allô! 👋

Welcome (back) to seasonal sundays, the supplement to good food at home where we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, at least one recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. If you’d like to help the newsletter grow, feel free to share this issue using the button below!

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Happy Sunday! I hope you’ve all been enjoying these first few days of September.

This week, we’re putting the spotlight on weeknight pastas, via some of the season’s most popular and abundant produce: chanterelles, broccoli, corn, zucchini, eggplant, and tomatoes — that’s right, we’re talking fruit, vegetables, and fungi. (I wasn’t kidding last week when I said I was eating pasta on repeat!)

On today’s newsletter menu, we’ve got an introduction to chanterelles, followed by five weeknight pasta recipes, and, to finish, a quick Q&A on how to store eggplants properly (keeping it short, because, you know, FIVE RECIPES).

Hope you enjoy!

Wishing you a beautiful day and lots of gorgeous meals ahead

— Simone⁣⁣

You probably don’t need me to tell you that we’re currently entering peak mushroom season (and, if like me, you live in a country where mushroom foraging is a thing, then you really don’t need me to tell you that we’re entering peak mushroom season).

The mushroom that most people around here get excited about, especially in September, is the chanterelle — or, to be more specific, the golden chanterelle also known as girolle.

Below are some chanterelles tidbits that could be good to know 🍄:

peak seasonality

Late summer to early fall (though, depending on your region, they can also be found as early as June or as late as December)

where to find them

• In farmers’ markets or at farm stands;

• in your local deciduous (look in low grass) or coniferous forests (look for mossy areas), if you know your way around mushroom picking (toxic lookalikes exist! make sure you know what you’re doing);

• occasionally in supermarkets (although they’re less likely to be freshly picked), and often in specialty grocery stores

shopping / foraging tips

Look for firm, even-hued mushrooms with no signs of slime, mould, or any large uneven areas that are dark, damaged, or dried-out. Ideally, your chanterelles will be fairly clean, although a little forest filth is always to be expected.

storage and shelf-life

Keep in a sealed container or bag, with a clean kitchen cloth or paper towel popped in to trap excess moisture, and store refrigerated. They should keep like this for up to a week, though are best eaten as close to picking as possible.

aroma and taste

Usually has a fruity, pleasant apricot-like smell (though not always; refrigeration will especially dull the smell). The taste is complex and often described as mild and savoury, with fruity, earthy, and nutty notes. The texture itself is pleasantly meaty, with a velvety chew.

uses and preparation

Use as you would other mushrooms, cooking either straight away, frying dry then frying in fat before freezing, or simply pickling, lacto-fermenting, or dehydrating for later.

To prepare, gently brush as much soil off the mushrooms as you can, then give them a quick-but-thorough rinse or soak, making sure to remove any excess moisture by laying them on a clean dishtowel afterwards (though a bit of residual wetness prior to cooking is not only fine, it can actually be desirable with chanterelles).

You can cook them however you like — these are not good raw — although most people would recommend involving garlic, parsley, and butter in some capacity.

Some more detailed than others, below are five pasta dishes I find myself regularly making on late summer weeknights (PDF with all recipes at the bottom):

creamy chanterelle & broccoli tagliatelle 🥦

I know there are chanterelles all around at the moment because people near me keep posting pictures of their foraged finds, but, alas, the golden rule of mushroom picking in Norway (and likely abroad) seems to be: keep your mushroom spots a well-kept secret.

Seeing as I don’t have hours to spend roaming the woods searching for fungeous gold, I’ve yet to experience the thrill of picking your own — which may very well be for the best, seeing as not all chanterelles are safe to eat, and I know very little about mushroom picking. Luckily for me, one of the farm shops in my area also sells foraged ingredients from time to time, so every late summer I get to sample some local mushrooms and support my local farmers all in one go.

I normally only make the pasta below with girolles, but this year the farm’s broccoli was looking too good to use just as a side, so I decided to add some in. The result? A big, delicious, win. (If you want to enjoy it broccoli-free, however, you are welcome to simply omit the brocc’ and double up on the mushrooms.)

CREAMY CHANTERELLE & BROCCOLI TAGLIATELLE
serves two

INGREDIENTS

• 125-150g chanterelles
• 150g / roughly half a head broccoli
• 10g / 4 cloves garlic
• 5g / 1 very small bunch fresh parsley leaves and stems
• 40g / a large pat butter salted
• 140-175g long fat pasta such as tagliatelle, fettuccine, or pappardelle*
• 3g / 5ml / 1 tsp flour
• 50g heavy cream
• 90ml vegetable or chicken stock†
• 25ml / a splash white wine or dry vermouth
• sea salt⁣
• freshly cracked black pepper
• (optional) extra virgin olive oil + Parmesan

*use 175g for large portions, 140g for “regular”/medium ones
†feel free to use just-boiled water with a ¼ stock cube and a pinch of salt dissolved into it instead

METHOD

1. Brush any loose dirt off 125-150g of chanterelles, then rinse or soak them to clean them well. Place the cleaned mushrooms in a dishtowel-lined colander to dry a little while you peel and microplane (or finely mince) four cloves (10 grams) of garlic, finely slice the stems from a small bundle (5 grams) of parsley, and cut half a head of broccoli (approx. 150g) into smaller pieces. Pat the chanterelles dry.

2. Place a large heavy-bottomed pan over medium-to-medium-high heat, and put a large pot of water to boil for your pasta. Melt a large pat (40 grams) of butter in the pan and, once it’s all pale and foamy, slide in all of the broccoli chunks. Stir them around regularly. Meanwhile, season the pasta water with salt and add enough pasta for two (140 to 175 grams) to the pot — cook until almost al dente. As soon as the broccoli is a vivid green colour on all sides, add in the chanterelles. Stir them around well, then, once any excess water has fried off, add the minced garlic and chopped parsley stems to the pan. Stir again, and keep frying everything in the butter for a couple of minutes more, until the chanterelles are vividly golden and their edges have browned from frying in the fat.

3. Add a small splash (25ml) of white wine or dry vermouth to the pan then, once it has evaporated, evenly sprinkle over a pinch of flour (3 grams / 5 millilitres / 1 teaspoon). Pour in a small amount (90 millilitres) of stock and a good splash of cream (50 grams), then stir everything well. Finely chop the parsley leaves.

4. Transfer the almost al dente pasta straight from the pot to the pan, and finish cooking it in the brothy cream, tossing regularly.

5. Turn off the heat, sprinkle about a quarter of the chopped parsley leaves into the pasta and crack some black pepper over top. Serve straight away, then garnish each plate evenly with the rest of the parsley. If you like, you can also top each plate with a really fine drizzle of olive oil, as well as freshly grated Parmesan.

pasta two

eggplant, red onion, and tomato pasta 🍆🍷

I always keep wine in my fridge — not for drinking, but for cooking.

Here’s how to make the red wine infused eggplant, red onion, and tomato pasta pictured above:

(serves 3 people in theory, but 2 people who can’t resist seconds in practice)

INGREDIENTS

Read more

Allô! 👋

Welcome (back) to seasonal sundays, the supplement to good food at home where we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, at least one recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. For less than 1£/week with an annual subscription, paid subscribers can access the full archive right over here.

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Happy Sunday! I hope you’ve been making the most of August so far. Although late summer is now officially upon us, the season’s characteristic abundance has yet to fully slow down. At this time of year, especially for those who grow our food, it can be both a joy and a struggle to keep up with the sheer variety and quantity of produce that nature seems to ceaselessly offer. As with many other difficult-but-rewarding periods of life, it can all feel a little overwhelming in the moment, but we’ll be looking back on this ephemeral period sooner than we know, so best enjoy it while we still can.

On today’s menu, we begin with an intro to what’s in season right now (the answer is: still nearly everything!), then dive into three comforting late summer recipes for any weather — featuring cucurbits of all kinds (melons, cucumbers, and summer squashes, oh my), breezy basil, creamy corn and crisp celery, as well as everybody’s favourite nightshades: tomatoes, potatoes, sweet peppers, and eggplants, too. Then, for dessert, we’ve got a (hopefully reassuring) Q&A on how to get your supermarket basil to quickly go from dying… to ✨thriving✨.

It’s a bit of a long one, but another one that I’m really proud of (and that I think you’ll really relish)! The main takeaway? In late summer, there’s no time like today!

Happy reading and happy cooking,

— Simone⁣

P.S. In case you missed it, here’s the glorious rainbow sandwich from the last newsletter!

We’ve now entered summer’s third act, and the pressure is on to enjoy and preserve the season’s fresh offerings as much as possible before autumn inevitably comes around.

While feasting on fresh tomatoes is top of mind for most of us, it would be a shame to miss out on other fresh late summer contenders like ground cherries, celery, and okra. There’s truly no time like today to enjoy that perfectly ripe plum. (Especially true these days, when it sometimes feels like fruit and veg can go from unripe to overgrown and/or mushy in record time.)

Below are some suggestions for fresh produce to seek out, right now, while they’re at their prime.

WHAT TO LOOK FOR IN EARLY LATE SUMMER

• beets
• blackberries
• cabbage
• carrots
• cauliflower
• celery
• chanterelles
• cranberries
• corn
• cucumbers
• kale
• juniper berries
• eggplant (aubergine)
• grapes
• melons
• late season potatoes
• okra
• peppers
• physalis (ground cherries)
• plums
• shelling beans and string beans
• summer onions
• tomatillos
• tomatoes
• zucchini (courgettes), patty pans, and other summer squash

The race is on for preserving as much as possible before the abundance runs out! Consider buying a little extra while the supply is abundant (you’ll usually get better prices during peak season, and can sometimes snag great deals on bulk buys, especially with atypical or slightly overripe produce) and try your hand at freezing, drying, canning, or fermenting whatever you would like to sample and savour in another form later on in the year.

ajoblanco with melon, cucumber & grapes 🍈🥒🍇

This one is perfect for a blazing hot day (or, better yet, for the next day, if you know a scorcher is on its way). After all, ajoblanco (ajo = garlic, blanco = white) originates from Andalusia, which is arguably Spain’s hottest region.

For me, this soup is a great excuse to use up stale bread and eat almonds as more than just a snack — also a great alternative to gazpacho if you know you’ll be thirsting for a cool lunch three sweltering afternoons in a row.

AJOBLANCO WITH MELON, CUCUMBER & GRAPES
serves 4 as a soup (or 8 if using as a sauce)

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Allô! 👋

Welcome (back) to seasonal sundays, the weekly-ish supplement to good food at home, where we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, a recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. If you’re a new subscriber and would like to read the previous issues, you can click here to find them!

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Happy Sunday!

I hope you’ve been enjoying these bountiful dog days of summer, basking in the comforting knowledge that, right now, good food is all around. It’s peak produce season, baby!

On today’s newsletter menu, we’ve got an introduction on how to shop for and store a few mid-summer fruit and vegetables, followed by my currently-eating-on-repeat recipe for a sandwich that packs in a rainbowful of flavours; and, to finish, a little Q&A on whether or not you should be washing your fruit and veg.

Hope you enjoy the tips and tidbits!

Wishing you all a beautiful day, and lots of gorgeous meals ahead

— Simone⁣⁣

As mid-summer comes with an abundance of produce, I thought this week might be a good time to take a closer look at how to best shop for and store what’s currently at its best.

HOW TO SHOP FOR & STORE: TOMATOES 🍅

Today, most tomatoes sold in supermarkets were bred for profit over pleasure — this means that they travel well and last a long time on a shelf, but often don’t carry much flavour. So, if what you’re after is a deeply flavoursome fruit with tender, juicy flesh, you may want to try to avoid such “big brand” tomatoes. Signs that a tomato will be tasty include its weight (should be heavy for its size), colour (should be quite saturated, whether it is red, yellow, orange, green, or dark purple), firmness (put on Goldilocks’ shoes while you hold it: you don’t want it to be too hard or too soft, you simply want it just right), and scent (it should be intoxicating!). A bit of scarring on a tomato is usually fine, but black spots are undesirable (and open blemishes and cracks in the flesh are potential entryways for pathogens) so do be mindful of that.

Large and medium tomatoes should be stored stem-side down in a cardboard punnet or dishtowel-lined container, in one layer, at room temperature, and out of direct sunlight — same goes for smaller cherry and grape varieties, though they can be stacked onto each other in a big pile if not tethered to their vines*. Eat within 3 days or so, or cook then refrigerate to store for longer. Once cut, raw tomatoes should also be stored in the refrigerator. Any slightly unripe or overripe tomatoes will be better suited for cooking as opposed to enjoying raw, or for dehydrating in a low oven (the dried tomatoes can then be stored in olive oil, or ground up with salt to make a wonderfully savoury condiment).

*I hope you’ve got spare room on your countertops; if not, fresh produce does make for wonderful decoration on tabletops around the home (just keep them out of bathrooms and bedrooms, please)

HOW TO SHOP FOR & STORE: STONE FRUIT 🍑

With peaches, plums, nectarines, apricots and the like, you’ll want to look for vibrantly-hued fruit with intact skin. Depending on when you’re planning to eat them (or if you want to cook them vs. enjoy them raw), you may want to buy slightly unripe fruit that will last a little while on a countertop or that can better hold their shape when baked — in which case, look for fairly firm fruit, a bit pale but not green, with an unbudging stem. If you want to enjoy them raw and ASAP (As Soon As Polite; please don’t go chomping on anything before you’ve paid for it, no matter how alluring the aroma), go for heavy fruit with a slight give to their flesh, a strong fruity fragrance, and stems and leaves that can easily be nudged off. If the fruit is very soft, it is likely overripe: perfect for a crisp, crumble, cobbler, or buckle. Note that if your stone fruit are firm yet wrinkly, this is likely a sign that they were picked too early and then chilled for long-haul shipping: they may taste okay, but in the end they won’t be quite the same as the real sun-ripened deal.

Aside from cherries which fare well in the refrigerator, stone fruit are best stored at room temperature. Slightly unripe fruit will benefit from being placed in a brown paper bag, while perfectly ripe fruit should be kept uncovered and in a single layer for no more than 2-3 days. Any fruit that you know you can’t get to within a reasonable time frame can be cooked into compotes or jam and/or frozen for later.

‎

HOW TO SHOP FOR & STORE: FRESH (UNCURED) ONIONS ✨

Look for firm onions with shiny, vibrantly hued, soft skins and perky green tops that can mostly stand upright by themselves. It probably goes without saying, but you’ll want to avoid any onions that are slimy, dented, or seriously discoloured. Separate and use the scallion-like tops first as they are quick to yellow and wither (they can be used exactly like you would green onions), then, if planning on using within a few days, store the fresh onions in a basket, or a rack, or in a hanging mesh bag placed in a cool, dark place with good air flow — or, if you want them to keep for more than a week, simply pop them into the refrigerator.

Uncured onions won’t last as long as the dried ones we’re used to seeing year-round (that’s the price you pay for a juicier, fresher product!), so you’ll want to use them use within a week or two of refrigerating. If you can’t get to them right away, consider frying them up (or even caramelising them) in a big batch, then freezing them for later.

HOW TO SHOP FOR & STORE: CUCUMBERS 🥒

Ripe cucumbers should be very firm, though not hard, and fairly uniform in colour, a nice, vibrant shade of dark green (this last factor depends on the variety but, generally, the paler a cucumber gets, from light green all the way to yellow, the older it is, which usually means it’ll have thicker skin, a more bitter flesh, and tougher seeds). Any wrinkly cucumbers you find have probably been sitting for a while post-harvest, but they should still be fine to eat if unblemished: simply refresh in ice water for 20-30 minutes before enjoying. Also good to know is that smaller cucumbers tend to be crisper/crunchier and more pleasant than larger ones, so don’t be tempted to think that bigger is always better.

You can store cucumbers in the refrigerator in a resealable container or wrapped for up to a week or so (once cut, make sure the cut face is completely sealed away from air), or, if you know you won’t be able to get to the cucumber in time, consider making pickles! Alone or with herbs and spices, in a sweet vinegar brine or lacto-fermented in a simple salt solution.

HOW TO SHOP FOR & STORE: BEANS 💜

Wax beans, flat beans, string beans, purple beans. All should be firm and look like they would snap if bent (though please don’t snap before you buy!), with a uniform colour and relatively thin, taut skin. Avoid any bumpy, dry, or tough-skinned beans and, if you can, buy untrimmed beans as these usually last longer (the very tips are also a good indicator of freshness, as they will be the first part of the bean to go soft, dry, and brown post-harvest). Spotty beans should generally be avoided, though limp ones will usually do just fine in a cooked dish and can be sometimes be shocked back to life in ice water.

To store, keep in a loosely wrapped bag or partially-closed container in the fridge (the aim is to keep exposure to dry refrigerator air minimal while also reducing the risk of trapping in too much moisture) and use within 5 days or so. If you know you won’t be able to get to your beans before they are suitable only for the compost heap, consider blanching them in salted water then cutting them into thirds before popping them into the freezer for another day.

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Allô! 👋

Hello, and thank you for being here! Welcome (back) to seasonal sundays, the weekly-ish supplement to good food at home, where we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, a recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. If you’re a new subscriber and would like to read the previous issues, you can click here to find them.

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Happy Sunday! I hope you’re all doing well.

Although June’s summer solstice is often celebrated as “midsummer”, you may be relieved to learn that true mid-summer has only just begun. So, if somehow you’re feeling like summer’s nearly over already, fret not: we’ve barely hit the halfway mark, and there’s still loads of deliciousness to come.

Over here in Norway, what this means is that we’re finally starting to get our nights back. In Lofoten up north, the six or so weeks of midnight sun have now officially come to an end. Down in the south, from where I write, we’ll soon be welcoming astronomical twilight once more, which is rather exciting because blackout blinds and sleeping masks can only do so much to keep you from waking up at 4AM, groggily confused as to why it’s so bright out despite your morning alarm having yet to go off. It also means we’ll soon be losing out on some fabulous evening light, but que sera sera. You can’t have everything all at once.

In today’s newsletter, we’ve got an intro to bilberries vs blueberries and drupes (a new-to-me term for stone fruit), a recipe for pâtisserie-style tarts to make the most of any mid-summer fruit, and, last but not least, a long-time follower follows up on that time I built the kitchen in which I currently work, and asks what to consider when designing a kitchen in today’s Q&A.

We’ve only had three full days of sun since I last wrote you, so do forgive the continued theme of comfort cooking. I guess that’s just what this summer weather calls for.

I hope you enjoy the read, the recipe, and the Q&A.

— Simone⁣

In case you didn’t know, I’m French-Canadian. Being bilingual from the get-go, I grew up knowing that a blueberry was a « bleuet » — that is, until my family moved to Paris. Aged 11, I was perplexed to discover firsthand that French people use all sorts of foreign terms to speak what I thought was a common language (don’t get me started on using the word bibitte to tell my friends what I’d just seen in the schoolyard; that did not translate very well at all).

One of these exotic (to me) expressions was the word for blueberry: in France, a blueberry is not a « bleuet », it is a « myrtille ». Oh well, potayto potahto. They both refer to the same thing, right?

Wrong.

It wasn’t until I moved to Norway around a decade later and began partaking in what is apparently an unofficial national tradition of picking a year’s worth of wild blueberries in the summertime that I realised that the « myrtilles » of my youth never were « bleuets» after all.

My friends, a « myrtille » is not a blueberry. It is a bilberry.

The main difference? Blueberries are native to North America, have a little sepals (those soft star-shaped flaps) on one end, and their flesh is pale green. Meanwhile, bilberries are native to Europe, don’t have any sepals, and their flesh is dark red. Blueberries are usually larger and tougher than bilberries, and are much easier to grow commercially, so that’s what you’ll usually find fresh in a punnet. Bilberries, on the other hand, are generally smaller and more delicate, so any fresh ones you encounter are usually foraged (though you can also find them commercially, frozen whole, or made into jams, jellies, and liqueurs).

Anyway, all that to say: I’ve just been on my annual bilberry picking and decided that, this year, on top of eating them fresh, freezing some for later, and cooking some down into jam, I wanted to make a mid-summery pie.

When I lived in Paris as a kid, one of my favourite things to order from a pâtisserie was a chouquette. It still is (chouquettes are wonderful), but since spending the better part of last year living in France again, one of my new favourite things to buy in a pâtisserie has become a little tart with a rich shortbread base, creamy custard spread onto it, and fresh seasonal fruit delicately arranged over top. Typically sold with strawberries, or a mix of strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, and blackberries (AKA « fruits rouges »), it really is a treat to eat with any mid-summer fruit — berry or not.

As you know, summer is the season of abundance and, if like me you don’t live all that close to the equator and have relatively harsh, dark winters, the time to indulge in fresh local fruit is now.

There are so many plump, delicately-fleshed berries and stone fruit (AKA drupes! who knew!) to choose from, each coming in various shapes and sizes, colours and flavours — as diverse as they are different, I think nearly all would be welcome atop a sweet custard tart.

Below are just some of the fruit you may encounter this mid-summer season, depending on where in the world you are:

Berries

Raspberries
Black raspberries
Blueberries
Bilberries
Whortleberries
Currants (red, white, and black)
Jostaberries
Wineberries
Ollalieberries
Marionberries
Gooseberries (green, red, purple, yellow, white)
Tayberries
Loganberries
Salmonberries
Dewberries
Youngberries
Cloudberries
Boysenberries

Stone fruit (drupes)

Plums (red-fleshed, purple-fleshed, yellow-fleshed, etc.)
Apricots
Nectarines (round, flat, yellow, white, etc.)
Chinese plums
Peaches (round, flat, yellow, white, etc.)
Japanese apricots
Greengages (like Reine Claude)
Mirabelles
Victoria plums
Cherries (sweet, sour, yellow, red, purple, etc.)
Sloes
Cherry plums
Damsons
Pluots / Apriums
Prune plums

The most pleasant way to enjoy most of these fruit is raw. At first. Later, when you tire of eating them straight from the punnet, bush, or tree (or simply want to alternate ways of enjoying them), you’ll want to consider savouring them macerated, quick-pickled or stewed, and then eventually preserved into jams, jellies, and juices — or, quite simply, frozen and thawed.

TIP: HOW TO FREEZE FRUIT WELL

The best way to freeze fresh fruit is to first clean and dry them (if not already clean and dry), then prepare them as you would like to eat them (usually this means keeping berries whole and drupes de-stoned, leaves and stems removed, often cut into segments).

Next, place them on a sheet tray in one layer, no piece touching another if you can manage it, and transfer the tray to the freezer.

Once the fruit is mostly frozen (after a few hours have passed), remove the fruit pieces from the tray and transfer them into resealable bags or containers. Label them with their contents and date if you’re organised, then pop them back into the freezer.

The fruit will keep this way for around a year without any significant loss of quality — just long enough to carry you into the next season of abundant fresh summer fruit.

I’ve showcased bilberries and white doughnut peaches in the recipe below, but feel free to use whatever berries and drupes are abundant and available near you, in any combination that you like (yellow round nectarines and raspberries, or purple plums together with blueberries are particular favourites of mine).

a mid-summer fruit custard tart 🍑🍒🥧✨

As mentioned above, this is the sort of tart you’ll often find in French pâtisseries — typically without a tall edge and with berries on top — it’s simple and refreshing, and near-endlessly adaptable to whatever fleshy fruit are in season. It’s the dessert to make when you have enough fruit for a galette or pie but would rather keep things cool and fresh, and don’t want to stress about keeping butter cold for a flaky pie dough.

The shortcrust I use here was developed to be close in taste to the classic sablé breton, but sturdier so that the tart could have edges and a bottom that can hold the toppings’ weight. Likewise, I’ve modified the typical crème pâtissière to be lighter in texture, all while still beautifully holding its shape. This is the way I prefer my fruit tarts to be.

A MID-SUMMER FRUIT CUSTARD TART

INGREDIENTS
for 8-10 portions⁣

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Allô! 👋

Hello, and thank you for being here! Welcome (back) to the seasonal sundays section of the good food at home newsletter, where we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, a recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. If you’re a new subscriber and would like to read the previous issues, you can click here to find them!

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Happy Sunday! I hope your July’s been off to a good start — deliciously peppered with treasured moments of sunshine, delight, and relaxation. Mine (and most of Norway's) has been unusually grey, wet, and windy, but cheerful nonetheless.

On today’s menu, we begin with an intro to what’s in season right now (the answer is: nearly everything), then dig into rainy vs sunny summer recipes featuring raspberries, beetroot, kohlrabi, and fennel, before finishing with a double Q&A where I share my favourite pantry items and get specific about salt.

It’s a bit of a long one, but one I’m really proud of (and that I think you’ll really enjoy)! The main theme? In summer, there’s no need to cook — all you really have to do is shop, sometimes prep, and then jauntily assemble.

Happy reading,

— Simone⁣

P.S. In case you missed it in the last newsletter, seasonal sundays is currently being dispatched every other week this summer.

Though summer may be one of the main calendar seasons, it also contains within it a multitude of micro-seasons, each with an overlapping and ever-evolving catalogue of produce to proudly display.

While sweet, plump, juicy fruit and popular veg require almost no introduction, other summer candidates — like beetroot, kohlrabi, and fennel — may benefit from getting a bit of extra love and attention.

Right now, it’s still early summer, and there’s already lots to choose from. Here are a few items to look for (and look forward to) in the coming days and weeks.

LATE SEASON

These are the things that are on their way out — either for the year or until the weather cools again in early fall — though local availability will of course depend on plant varieties, where the foods have grown, and if they must travel far to get to you:

• garlic scapes
• peas
• fava beans
• rhubarb
• wild strawberries
• cultivated strawberries (though some varieties continue to fruit throughout summer)
• haskap berries (blue honeysuckle)

PEAK SEASON

• raspberries
• beetroot
• carrots
• dill flower, nasturtiums, zucchini blossoms, and chamomile
• turnips
• gooseberries, red currants, and white currants
• new potatoes
• fresh / young onions
• fresh / young garlic
• fennel
• samphire
• an abundance of herbs
• brassicas like kohlrabi, cabbage, and chard
• cherries, peaches, and other stone fruit

EARLY SEASON & COMING SOON

• zucchini, patty pans, and other summer squash
• celery
• shelling beans and string beans
• cucumbers
• eggplant (aubergine)
• bilberries and blueberries
• tomatoes
• chanterelles
• corn
• melon
• peppers
• grapes
• honey

You may have gathered from the selection of photos I’ve chosen that, no matter what is growing around you at the moment, summer is great time to put things on toast.

Indeed, as it’s generally too hot to turn on an oven or stove, too sunny to stay indoors, and/or the produce just too good to fuss with, it’s generally a great season for doing barely any cooking at all. Generally, all you’ve got to do is shop for (or harvest) good ingredients, occasionally do a bit of prep, and finish with some low-effort assembly.

Generally.

As I alluded to in my opening note above, Norwegian summer seems to be on a holiday of its own this year.

More often than not, the days here have been windy, wet, cold, and dark — not exactly the type of weather that makes you want to languorously sip on chilled soups or playfully crunch on crisp cool salads. Hence the slightly more involved (and comforting) recipes below. As I know some of you are experiencing scorching weather, however, I’ve also provided low-effort, minimal fuss alternatives to each, so do read on if your summer is looking mostly sunny and hot.

In an effort to not make this newsletter too long, I’ve simplified the recipes as much as practical. Ingredients are highlighted in bold for ease of reference, as usual.

roast beetroot, raspberries, pistachios & feta ✨

You could finely slice your summer beets on a mandoline or shave them with a box grater for a quick cool salad, but there’s just something about a cooked beet that I find much more satisfying. Here, they are steam-roasted on a bed of salt so they can absorb maximum flavour from the raspberries (and keep their respective colours unmarred), but you could also simmer them in water with vinegar, salt, and sugar for a juicier result.

RASPBERRY BEETROOT SALAD WITH PISTACHIO FETA

serves 4 as a small plate or appetiser (or 2 if folks are especially hungry)

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Allô! 👋

Hello, and thank you for being here! Welcome (back) to the seasonal sundays section of the good food at home newsletter, where every week we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, a recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. If you’re a new subscriber and would like to read the previous issues, you can click here to find them!

Subscribe now

Happy Sunday (June’s last)! I hope this month has treated you well.

On today’s menu, we have an introduction to fig leaves and strawberries, a simple recipe for the strawberry and/or fig leaf semifreddo pictured above (it has the irresistible mousse-like airiness of a semi-frozen tiramisù), and an easy breezy little Q&A where I share my top three “tips of the trade”.

Also, an announcement: starting this July, seasonal sundays will become a fortnightly publication! Consider it summer hours and a chance to catch a reading break. Lots of you said in the reader survey that you like the weekly schedule, while lots of you said you’d prefer biweekly instead, so we’re trying it out. The plan is to test the fortnightly waters over the coming weeks, then circle back at the end of season to see which pace most prefer. (Meanwhile, the free good food at home newsletters will continue to be monthly-ish, with a tentative publication date on the last day of every month).

Wishing you all a delicious and relaxing July!⁣

I hope you enjoy the read, the recipe, and the Q&A.⁣⁣

— Simone⁣⁣

⁣P.S. In case you missed it, there’s a new rhubarb (and strawberry) cookie recipe up on the site! (Paid subscribers can get a more detailed version of it right over here.)

You surely don’t need me to tell you that in-season strawberries are delicious — but have you ever inhaled the enthralling perfume of a roasting fig leaf? This intriguing combination is what this week’s issue is all about. Allow me to tell you more…

STRAWBERRIES & FIG LEAVES — ORIGIN & SEASONALITY

Until the late 18th century, if you were eating a strawberry, it was a wild one similar to the teeny tiny flavour bombs pictured above*. Enjoyed as early as Roman times, the whole strawberry plant was believed to be a valuable tool against depression (judging by the immense joy it continues to bring, I’d argue that was a pretty fair assessment) and, by the mid-16th century, thanks to the court of Henry VIII, its fruit was already touted as a most excellent accompaniment to cream, whipped or otherwise.

Today, the modern varieties of garden strawberry we’ve most commonly come to know and love (and consume in dizzying amounts) are descendent of both North and South American wild strawberries first interbred in France in the 1700s, as their increased size and prolific fruiting capacity quickly made them popular all around the world. Speaking of which: these days, most of the world’s cultivated strawberries are grown in China.

As for fig leaves, in addition to being used as modest modes of censorship throughout art history, they have also been around for a very, very long time. Thought to be one of the first plants cultivated by humans, fig trees of the species Ficus carica originated in what is today the Middle East and have since been naturalised all over the world, with uses that range from wrapping cheeses to cooking fish in leafy papillotes (Ancient Greeks were apparently even using the sap that oozes from broken fig stems as an early animal-free rennet).

In terms of seasonality, depending on where you live (it always depends on where you live), fresh strawberries have either been available for months already or are only just coming into their own. Same goes for fig leaves, though when it comes to their fruits, some fig varieties are already ripening while others won’t be plump or juicy until much later in the summer.

*fun fact: if you’ve ever thought that some artificial strawberry aromas do a poor job of imitating the natural taste of a cultivated strawberry, that’s because many were modelled on the long-cherished flavour of wild strawberries, not on modern garden varieties

FLAVOUR NOTES & PAIRINGS

You may be surprised to know that fig leaves give off a wonderfully coconutty aroma once toasted. While too fibrous to eat, they are well-suited for infusing into oils, syrups, and cream as a way of imparting a herbaceous and vanilla-scented tropical taste, all without having to use actual coconut.

As for the fragrant Fragaria (i.e. strawberries’ Latin genus), while their ubiquity almost makes it a challenge to describe, I would say that the flavour and texture of a good, ripe strawberry is both sweet and a little sour, juicy and fleshy, reminiscent of pineapple and wild rose jelly (strawberries are, after all, related to roses).

Common pairings for strawberries include cream, fresh cheeses, lime, mint, pistachios, coconut, oats, elderflower, champagne, matcha, white chocolate, basil, balsamic vinegar, and vanilla, as well as fresh co-seasonal produce such as rhubarb, pineapple weed, and roses.

Meanwhile, fig leave infusions are known to go well with milk and cream, custards, rice, and vanilla — as well as anything that goes with coconut, such as lychee, cucumber, mint, lime, mango, strawberry, and lemongrass, among others.

SHOPPING TIPS

Ripe, in-season strawberries should be deep red in colour — not too firm, and not too soft either. The greener and less dried-out the tops, the more recently they’ve been picked. If plucking your own strawberries from a garden or wild strawberries from a field, make sure you don’t get too eager so as to pick any that have a hidden pale spot. Unless you are specifically looking for unripe strawberries (they make a great pickle), these pale ones just won’t be as juicy or taste all that sweet yet.

Fig leaves can be purchased dried, often in powdered form, in some specialty groceries and spice shops, but your best bet would be to find a friend who owns a tree. Look for leaves that are dark green — front and back — with few signs of insect or drought damage. Some say that younger, more tender leaves are more fragrant, but larger, older leaves harvested in the fall seem to be just as coconutty as the early summer ones, so I wouldn’t worry too much about how long they’ve been on the tree.

TROUBLESHOOTING & STORAGE

If your strawberries aren’t quite ripe, maceration is the way to go. Cut them up or keep them whole, weigh them, then stir them through 14g of white sugar for every 500 grams you’ve got. Leave to sit (for at least an hour, and up to a day in the fridge) until irresistibly juicy.

If your strawberries are too ripe to be pleasantly popped raw into your mouth, cook them down into a compote or jam, and jar or freeze any leftovers to spoon over and through yogurt, rice porridge or pudding, onto waffles, pancakes, or scones, or in between layers of cream and cake.

When harvesting fig leaves yourself (with approval from the tree’s proprietor, please), take care to remove any sap that may get onto your skin — it’s an irritant, and subsequent exposure to sunlight before a thorough wash could result in a nasty case of phytophotodermatitis. Note that to release the flavour and aroma of fig leaves, they must be heated (by the sun, toasted in a dry pan or grilled, smoked, baked in an oven, or simply warmed into an infusing liquid).

If not used or consumed within a few hours, both strawberries† and fig leaves are best stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator, loosely cradled by a small cloth or piece of kitchen paper, and can last this way for up to a week on average.

†you’ll want to keep your strawberries in one layer to avoid squishage, and can either them unwashed and dry, or refrigerate them after washing in a 1:3 vinegar-water solution and drying them really, really well (fig leaves are less fiddly)

While I normally don’t do much to strawberries at all (they are either devoured straight from the plant or punnet, or — on rare occasions — macerated then simply served with vanilla whipped cream), the inspiration for the recipe below comes from a desire to preserve the freshness of some lovely ripe strawberries (of the varieties Favori and Korona) I’d just bought and picked, all while challenging myself to do something interesting with them, and do something fun with fig leaves in the process.

The weather got unbearably hot, the leaves on my miniature balcony fig trees caught my eye, and suddenly (just in time for Wimbledon, Canada Day, and the 4th of July‡) I knew exactly what sort of recipe I wanted to develop.

‡Americans, you know the drill: just add blue berries (I recommend haskap at this time of year)

a strawberry & fig leaf semifreddo 🍧

Semifreddo, literally “half-cold” but most appropriately translated from Italian as “half-frozen”, is a no-churn alternative to ice cream that doesn’t require you to make a custard or buy a machine. You whip as much air as you possibly can into your ingredients before you freeze them, and that’s not only the reason it’s so fluffy even when straight from the freezer, it’s also why semifreddi will melt slower than ice cream or popsicles because all that air acts as a better buffer to heat than frozen water. How about that?

Most semifreddo recipes call for egg whites, egg yolks, or both. I think using both together often makes the most sense, but you can of course be playful and consider which textures and flavours you are most looking to enhance and showcase when making your decision. For the strawberry semifreddo, I wanted to keep the flavour super fresh and texture super light — hence why using egg whites only made the most sense to me.

For the fig leaf (and lime) semifreddo, I really wanted to emphasise the creaminess of my strawberry layer’s counterpart so went all-yolk. Doing it this way also means no leftover egg to deal with afterwards, which for me is an added win.

Strawberries and cream go well together, and so do strawberries and coconut. As a fil rouge to interweave these two flavours even more, I decided to add a subtle note of lime, which I think helped to further marry the two layers perfectly.

Note: While the eggs in this recipe are whisked over a double-boiler, you may want to skip this one if you have any hesitations about eating and/or serving egg that has not been rigorously pasteurised.

INGREDIENTS
for 8-10 portions⁣

THINGS YOU’LL NEED

• a kitchen scale
• one metal loaf tin, bundt pan, popsicle moulds, or other container(s) large enough to hold around 1.8L (approx. 7,6 US cups) in volume
• one large metal bowl + one medium-large heat-proof bowl
• a whisk or hand mixer
• a sieve / medium-to-fine-mesh strainer
• a silicone spatula
• room to fit a large metal bowl in your fridge
• room to fit a loaf tin / popsicle moulds / lidded containers in your freezer⁣⁣⁣
　

FOR THE STRAWBERRY SEMIFREDDO

• fresh strawberries leaves removed, 250g
• white sugar, 127g (divided into 7g + 20g + 100g)
• heavy cream (cold), 180g ideally around 39% fat
• fresh lime juice, 2 tsp or 10ml*
• fine sea salt, 1g or 1ml†
• egg whites (room temperature), 125g‡ from three or four eggs⁣⁣
　

FOR THE FIG LEAF (LIME) SEMIFREDDO

• fresh fig leaves, 12g, around four medium-sized leaves
• heavy cream (cold), 180g ideally around 39% fat
• white sugar, 67g (divided into 20g + 47g)
• egg yolks (room temperature), 50g‡ from three or four eggs
• the zest of a lime around 2 tsp⁣

⁣*you’ll need about half a lime for this amount
†can be difficult to weigh, but a small pinch or a little less than ¼ tsp will be just fine
‡ to get these amounts, the number will depend on the size of the eggs you use — my eggs were medium-sized and contained ∼35g of whites and ∼15g of yolk each so I used four to get as close as I could to the gram measurement⁣

notes:
• If you’d like to make just a strawberry semifreddo or a fig leaf (lime) semifreddo in a container of the same volume, multiply the quantities listed in your the strawberry semifreddo’s ingredients list by 1.3 and omit the fig leaf portion, or multiply the quantities listed in the fig leaf (lime) semifreddo’s ingredients list by 4 and ignore the strawberry section.

• Fig leaves are evidently not the easiest things to find, so if you can’t access them (yet), try leaning into the lime flavour by adding the juice of a lime along with an extra tablespoon of sugar as you whip the cream (otherwise, if in doubt, you can never go wrong with vanilla — scrape the seeds and add the pod from half a bean, or use 1 Tbsp extract (~1 tsp ground vanilla) to infuse your cream).

METHOD

Synopsis: Macerate some strawberries. Whisk up egg whites and sugar, combine with whipped cream and strawberries, then freeze. // Infuse some cream with fig leaves. Whisk up egg yolks and sugar, combine with whipped cream and lime zest, then freeze. // Serve separately or together and enjoy!⁣⁣

⁣⁣

STRAWBERRY SEMIFREDDO

1. Start by building flavour. Slice 250g of topped strawberries into small chunks. Toss with 7 grams of sugar and leave to macerate for an hour and a half at room temperature (even better if you can leave them in a sunny spot). Transfer to the refrigerator to continue macerating for at least 3 hours, or up to 8 hours / overnight.

Meanwhile, warm 180 grams of heavy cream in a small heavy-bottomed pot set to medium-low heat, along with 20 grams of sugar. Stir regularly to avoid scorching the bottom, then remove the cream from the heat as soon as the sugar has dissolved or at the first sight of steam. Let come to room temperature, then transfer to a lidded container and chill in the refrigerator until completely cold, ideally overnight.

2. Prepare a mould. Line a metal loaf tin or bundt pan with plastic wrap or parchment paper, leaving enough overhang around the long sides of the pan to fold back over the top of the semifreddo once poured in. (You could also not line your pan or mould(s) at all if you are planning to scoop your semifreddo out like ice cream instead of upturning it and cutting it into slices, in classic semifreddo style.)

3. Whip the cream. Place large metal bowl and whisk into the fridge at least 30 minutes before you are ready to whip your cream. (If you haven’t yet brought your eggs to room temperature, now would also be a good time to do so). Whip the chilled sweetened cream in the chilled bowl using the chilled whisk. Keep going until you have soft peaks that can hold their shape. Transfer the whipped cream back to the fridge to chill while you work on the next step.

4. Make a Swiss meringue. Add two teaspoons (10ml) of fresh lime juice to the macerated strawberries, stir well to combine, then lightly mash the strawberries with the back of a fork. Push the strawberries through a sieve to collect as much of their juices as you can into a very clean heat-proof bowl, then set the strained macerated strawberries aside in the refrigerator.

To the bowl with the strawberry juice and lime, add 100 grams of white sugar and one gram (a little less than ¼ tsp) of fine sea salt. Combine using a very clean whisk, then place over a pot containing a phalange’s depth of water that has been brought to a boil, then reduced to a bare simmer. Stir briefly, just until the sugar dissolves into a strawberry syrup, then add 125g of egg whites.

Beat the egg whites non-stop, just until glossy but still with large bubbles, then remove the bowl from the pot of steaming water and continue to whisk until you’ve incorporated enough air to significantly increase the whites’ volume and get visible ripples and peaks, the bubbles now teeny tiny, making sure to stop before the foam gets stiff or brittle.

Good to know: The acidity in the lime juice and the salt both help to give the egg whites extra stability and structure as they are beaten up into a meringue; the whisk and bowl must be very clean to ensure that no tiny amount of residual fat — which prevents the meringue from forming properly — comes into contact with the egg whites while beating (hence why a glass or metal bowl will be better here than a plastic one).

5. Assemble the components. Using a silicone spatula, very gently fold the macerated berries into the whipped cream. Then, continuing to be gentle so as to knock as little air out as possible from the billowy mixture, use the spatula to slowly fold the now-pink beaten egg whites into the whipped cream and berries in three separate additions, until everything has fully incorporated into one homogenous pale pink strawberry-studded blend.

6. Transfer to a mould and freeze. Pour the cloud-like mixture of creamy meringue foam into your prepared mould(s), then cover and freeze on a level surface for at least 8 hours before serving, ideally overnight so the semifreddo can fully set.

If serving without the fig leaf layer of semifreddo — you’re done! For un-moulding instructions and tips, continue reading to Step 7 in the fig leaf portion of the recipe below.

⁣FIG LEAF (LIME) SEMIFREDDO

1. Start by building flavour. Pick, wash, and dry 12 grams’s worth of fresh fig leaves. Place directly on the centre grill of an oven preheated to 150°C/302°F for 5-7 minutes, or until curled up and crisp, formerly green veins now golden in the back.

In a medium-small heavy-bottomed pot, pour in 180 grams of heavy cream, 20 grams of sugar, and the dehydrated fig leaves. Turn the heat up to medium-low and leave the pot on long enough just for the cream to warm.

At the first sight of steam, remove the pot from the burner. Let the fig leaves steep for an hour and a half at room temperature, then transfer to a container and place in the fridge to continue infusing for at least 3 hours, or up to 8 hours / overnight.

2. Line a mould (or not). If not planning to layer the fig leaf semifreddo onto the strawberry semifreddo, prepare a mould (a loaf tin or bundt pan lined with cling film, or simply a couple of 500ml containers and/or a bunch of popsicle moulds will do).

3. Whip the cream. Place large bowl and whisk into the fridge at least 30 minutes before you are ready to whip the fig-infused cream. (If you haven’t yet brought your eggs to room temperature, now would also be a good time to do so). Remove the infused cream from the refrigerator, remove and squeeze the fig leaves over the cream to extract as much flavour from them as you can, then whip the cream up in the chilled bowl using the chilled whisk.

Keep going until you have soft peaks that can hold their shape. Transfer your sweet herbaceous coconut-y whipped cream back to the fridge to chill while you work on the next step.

4. Make a zabaglione. Add 25 grams of egg yolks and 47 grams of sugar to a heat-proof bowl. Whisk together, then place over a pot of barely simmering water. Beat the egg yolks until luscious, pale, thick, and nearly doubled in volume, then remove from the pot of steaming water.

5. Assemble. Use a silicone spatula to slowly fold the sweet beaten egg yolks into the whipped cream in three separate additions, until everything has fully incorporated into one homogenous blend. Add in the fresh zest of one lime, and swirl through again.

6. Mould and freeze. Pour the cloud-like mixture of creamy meringue foam into your prepared tin, then cover it and freeze it on a level surface for at least 8 hours before serving, ideally overnight.

7. Unmould and enjoy. To serve, uncover the mould, place an upturned plate or cutting board over top, and flip out onto the plate or board. Remove the cling film and slice. (If moulded in a container or popsicle mould without plastic wrap, serve as you would ice cream, or briefly dip the moulds in hot water to release.)

The semifreddo is best enjoyed within a week of making, but can be kept frozen for up to a month.

Enjoy after a nice meal, with extra macerated strawberries and whipped cream if you like, preferably outdoors or by an open window and in good company

Strawberry & Fig Leaf (Lime) Semifreddo

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A more concise, printable version of the recipe above! Feel free to download and save it for future reference and easy access

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This week, we’re diving into another question from the Q&A question bank (you can send questions in anonymously any time by using this form right here, or simply by visiting the newsletter’s homepage). For a list of topics already covered, such as “How do you deal with cooking fatigue?”, feel free to head on over to the bottom of the recipe index page right over here!

As always, there’ll be a bulleted summary of my answer below if you just want to skip to the good stuff.

“What are three tips of the trade that you use at home?”

Although I do most of my recipe development, cooking, food styling, food photography, and food writing work from home these days, the time I spent working in restaurants back in Canada and then food stylist assisting in London have taught me a number of things about how pros make their lives easier on the job — and how those tricks of the trade can translate at home for us cooks who just want to make meal times just that little bit easier.

1. Stabilise your cutting boards and sharpen your knives

This one can seem a little obvious or underwhelming, but it wasn’t something I learned until stepping foot into a restaurant kitchen. Place a slightly damp kitchen towel under your cutting board to stop it from sliding around while you cut, and make sure your knives are sharpened regularly, washed and dried by hand after every use, and honed as often as seems useful. Making this a habit will not only make any prep work involving a knife and cutting board vastly more pleasant, it also means you’re less likely to require a surprise dinnertime trip to the hospital.

2. Cotton dish towels are your best friends

Buy a lot. Wash them well and often. (Having a hamper for them in the kitchen is a good idea.) Use and abuse them for drying hands, wiping knives, surfaces, and plates, as well as for handling hot pans. They are way better than oven mitts, 100%. Just make sure any cloth you use to handle something hot is doubled up and completely dry — if there’s any moisture in the fibre, it’ll defeat the insulating purpose and you’ll feel the heat. (On a side note, the dry heat of a blasting oven shouldn’t scare you, but billowing steam, splattering oil, hot pan handles, and liquid caramel should …just a little.)

3. Clean as you go

Keeping your space clean and clear as you cook makes the whole experience just a whole lot nicer. Keep a big container for compost (sometimes called a “garbage bowl”) for all your scraps, and make use of a bench scraper if you’ve got one to clear large surfaces in no time at all. Wipe sticky spots away with a damp cloth (then dry them with a dry one), stack any bowls or pans into or next to the sink as soon as they are no longer needed, and clear all your prep tools and surfaces once your soup or stew is simmering on the hob or casserole is in the oven.

I can never resist going above what was asked of me, so here are two more tips I feel are worth sharing here (what can I say, I’m as generous with my advice as I am with my food!):

4. Preheat your pans (except if they’re non-stick)

Carbon steel is the pan material of choice in many restaurant kitchens, but cast iron and stainless steel benefit from pre-heating too (uncoated aluminium and enamelled steel, not so much). If you’re using Teflon-coated non-stick pans — which were due to be banned in the EU along with other sources of PFAS by 2026… before the industrial lobbyists stepped in — you should never preheat them or heat them at all unless you’ve already put food into them.

5. Y-peelers are the only peelers worth using

Dull, unergonomic, pen-shaped vegetable peelers are simply annoying to use. Personally, I just don’t bother with them. Cheap, Y-shaped peelers from restaurant supply stores instead are your best bet for a good find (and, in fact, for most frequently-used culinary tools, I’d say you’re better off shopping at a restaurant supply store; that’s generally where you not only avoid the trendy colourful stuff that won’t last in fashion or utility, and instead go for better quality and longevity, at lower prices).

As a second bonus, for aspiring food stylists, photographers, and writers, I’ll end by saying: don’t fuss with the food too much, use natural light, top-down photography is hard to mess up, and set deadlines that you can and will stick to. The rest is just practice.

In short, if you’re looking for pro tips to help make your life easier in the home kitchen:

1. Give your cutting boards a grip and your knives an edge — a lightly damp dish towel will stop your cutting boards from sliding, and regularly sharpened / honed knives will stop you exerting unnecessary force on their blade (which will only increase your risk of accidental finger slicing)

2. Keep a lot of dish towels around — they wipe, they dry, they keep the heat at bay, all the while make a happy cook’s day (and, with paper kitchen towels, you can do away); look for 100% cotton commercial grade dish towel for a reliable kitchen cloth

3. Clean as you go — Keep a big bowl nearby for compost scraps, and take two seconds to clear away anything that doesn’t need to be in front of you while you’re on task; it’ll help you have a much easier, breezier time cooking (and cleaning afterwards, too)

4. Preheat your pans — For a non-stick surface that guarantees a perfect sizzle or sear, every time, make sure your pans are hot before you cook in ‘em (note that this doesn’t mean cranking the heat to the max — just let the pan warm up at your chosen temperature for a few minutes before adding your ingredients); exceptions are for enamelled steel, aluminium, and non-stick coated cookware

5. Buy your kitchenware at a restaurant supply store — That’s where the pros go for a reason; if you want chef-approved Y-peelers, microplanes, mandolines, knives, pans, restaurant-grade silicone spoonulas and chinois fine-mesh strainers, you might as well go straight to the source

So there you have my answer! Efficient cookery is pleasant cookery, and keepings things orderly and tidy is the cherry on the cake. If you’re planning on cooking loads, prep as much as you can in advance and have a realistic timetable / game plan to guide you on the day. That’s how the pros get it done.

For more Q&A topics with wisdom gleaned from my time spent in the field, do check out the questions below:

• “What are three kitchen tools you can’t go without?”
• “How do you keep herbs fresh?”
• “How do you organise your fridge?”

⁣(More where those came from right over here.)

As always, thanks for being here!

See you in the next newsletter,⁣
👋simone⁣

Allô! 👋

Hello, and thank you for being here! Welcome (back) to the seasonal sundays section of the good food at home newsletter, where every week we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, a recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. If you’re a new subscriber and would like to read the previous issues, you can click here to find them!

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Happy Sunday (summer’s first)! I hope the weather’s been treating you well.

On today’s menu, we have an introduction to peas and broad beans, a sought-after recipe for Danish bread rolls, a simple recipe for the delightfully green pea and broad bean soup pictured above, and a chatty little Q&A to tackle the oh-so-relatable topic of cooking fatigue.

As always, I hope you enjoy the read.

— Simone

Although the estival season has only just officially begun, it seems that in recent weeks the days have either been unbearably hot, relentlessly moist, or some unseasonable combination of the two. (Here in Southeastern Norway, it’s mostly been thunderstorms, wind storms, and hail storms lately — not exactly typical June weather.) 

Still, in spite of the increasingly extreme and unpredictable climate, expert growers have managed to continue the hard work of nurturing the produce they’ve been preparing for all year, and many (but not all) crops are managing to ripen unharmed and on time.

Depending on where you live, the summer solstice marks an agricultural turning point that either indicates the end of “cool-but-warm” weather crops like peas and broad beans (but also artichokes and tender greens), or their prolific beginning.

Either way, no matter where you are, early summer is the start of a busy period during which it becomes increasingly easy and alluring to enjoy an abundance of fresh produce — fruit, veg, cheeses, herbs — with, between, or on some quality pieces of bread.

BROAD BEANS & PEAS — TYPES & VARIETIES

Though the terms “broad bean” and “fava bean” are often used interchangeably* — and sometimes swapped with “horse bean” or “field bean” — the former pair generally refer to the larger, softer cultivars grown for human consumption, while the latter two typically designate smaller, harder, wilder cultivars which are typically (but not always) reserved for feeding animals or used as cover crops to keep the soil healthy in between plantings (they also make for excellent falafels).

As for peas, the three main types are English or garden (shelling) peas, Chinese or snow peas, and a cross between the two: (sugar) snap peas. Unlike shelling peas, snow peas and snap peas are almost always eaten whole, pod and all, and they also are tender enough to eat raw. All come in many varieties, and can have pods that range in colour from green to deep purple and pale yellow. Most commonly eaten, however, are the shelled green garden peas we usually find blanched and frozen, canned and mushy, or dried and starchy at the grocery store, preserved for easy year-round consumption†.

*occasionally, the term “fava bean” is also used distinguish the pulse in its dried form from “broad beans”, a term then reserved for its fresh counterpart only

†although it not uncommon to enjoy broad beans and peas fresh (or frozen fresh) these days, they were for the longest time grown only so they could be dried and kept as staples throughout the year

BROAD BEANS & PEAS — SEASONALITY

When it comes to fresh pods, these are either available in spring or summer, depending on local climate. In warm dry parts of the world where seasons are similar to those where the cultivation of peas and fava beans originated over 10,000 years ago (most likely in the Levant), this means you’ll find the year’s first pods ready to pop open as early as February.

Conversely, in more temperate regions where summer heat tends to be more moderate, peak pea and broad bean season spreads instead across the summer months along with other legumes, with availability ranging from June to August depending on a particular pulse’s variety and growing conditions.

BROAD BEANS & PEAS — FLAVOUR NOTES AND PAIRINGS

Fresh peas and fava beans both have a pleasant grassy sweetness to them, and their dried counterparts are similar, though a lot starchier, and therefore heartier. Broad beans generally have a slightly nuttier, earthier flavour compared to peas, and the fact that fresh ones are frequently double-peeled also means they can be more tender.

Common pairings for both include cured pork, tender herbs, fresh milky cheeses as well as mature crystalline hard ones, olive oil, lemon, cumin, and alliums. (For more good ideas, ’s got some great pea recipes in her latest issue of .)

BROAD BEAN & PEA — SHOPPING TIPS, USES & STORAGE

Fresh broad beans and peas are best eaten ASAP (As Soon As Picked), so you’ll want to keep an eye out for pods that are plump, vibrantly green, and heavy for their size. Avoid any that look withered, dried out, or otherwise deteriorated from sitting too long on a shelf, but don’t fear any that simply look a little bent or misshapen.

If plucking your own, you can choose to eat your garden peas and broad beans raw (especially if you choose to pick pods when still young and very small — when immature, you can even eat the pods), though what is most common with fresh peas and broad beans is to shell them if the pods are too fibrous (usually not the case with snow peas and sugar snaps) and blanch them first, before shocking them in ice water to keep them vibrantly green.

If you don’t plan on eating fresh garden peas or broad beans shortly after buying / harvesting them, you’ll want to remove them from their pods and blanch them as soon as you can before popping them into the fridge for 2-3 days, or into the freezer for up to 6 months (in an airtight container).

I’ve been thinking of sharing the recipe for the little “rundstykke” (literally “round piece”) breads that I’ve been making almost every week for the last few months, and now seems a pretty good time to do it, as I’ve been loving them with fresh peas lately.

A number of you have expressed interest in recipes that include the occasional sourdough, and seeing as summer is the unofficial season of “fresh things on toast”, I figured why not finally let you join in on the fun?

Apologies however if sourdough recipes aren’t for you — in that case, feel free to skip on down to the second recipe and Q&A, no hard feelings!

Danish bread rolls 🇩🇰

If you’ve been to Scandinavia, you’ll likely be familiar with “rundstykker” (Norway), “boller” (Denmark), or “frallor” (Sweden), the small bread buns that are so enjoyed at breakfast, sometimes lunch, sometimes dinner, and often at any time in between.

Though they are eaten year-round (often with butter, sliced cheese, lunch meats, and/or liver pâté), this is the time of year where the common cucumber, bell pepper, and lettuce leaf toppings really start to shine. Personally, I’m more of a fresh pea or grated heritage tomato girl, but the beauty of good bread is that you can enjoy it with anything you like, however you prefer.

INGREDIENTS

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Allô! 👋

Welcome (back) to seasonal sundays, the supplement to good food at home that takes a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, at least one recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. Thank you for reading! If you’d like to invite a friend to subscribe, annual subscriptions are currently discounted until the end of the season.

Happy Sunday (last one this spring)!

This week I’m doing something a little different.

Instead of the usual newsletter format, today you’ll be getting a recipe for paid subscribers plus advanced access to a recipe that will be published on the website later this month. (The version you get here is more detailed than the one that’ll eventually be shared publicly for all, and you also get an easy-to-print PDF if you’d like to save and easily access the recipe later.)

Let me know what you think, and I hope you enjoy today’s recipes and Q&A!

— Simone⁣

The focus in this week’s recipe are garlic scapes, the flowering offshoots of garlic bulbs trying to go to seed. Most garlic growers want their plants to focus their energy on growing big juicy bulbs instead of producing gorgeous flowers, so their towering tendrils are sliced before their buds can erupt: enter, the twirling garlic scape.

seasonality

Late spring, early summer.

availability

Farmers’ markets or farm stands, your or a friend’s garden, and specialty grocery stores.

shopping tips

Look for firm, bright green, loopy tendrils with closed buds at their tips, and juicy cuts at the base of the stem.

storage

Keep in a vase of water, like flowers, and use within three to five days of buying or harvesting (or, tuck into a barely damp cloth before popping into an airtight container in the fridge, like herbs, and store for up to a week or two depending on freshness and moisture levels).

taste

Like garlic, but milder and “greener”.

uses

Prepare as you would green onions or chives (or, if you love garlic, as you would green beans and asparagus); to preserve a large bunch, consider making pesto or compound butter.

garlic scape, roast garlic & thyme focaccia ✨

If you don’t have access to sourdough starter, I must apologise. You have my permission to skip on down ahead to the next recipe (or use the toppings I suggest here together with your favourite yeast-based recipe).

My favourite focaccia toppings/add-ons are (so far) the undefeated combination of kalamata olive and rosemary, but a close second is tomato (more specifically, the tomato oregano focaccia sold at Luciano Foods in Ottawa’s Little Italy), and I have yet to say no to a potato onion combo.

When I make focaccia at home, I try to use whatever is looking best at the moment. This week, that meant garlic scapes and some flowering thyme from the garden. (I didn’t have lots of scapes — only three, to be precise — so that’s where the idea for roast garlic boost came in).

•••

INGREDIENTS
makes approx. one quarter sheet pan of focaccia (24.5 x 37 cm or 9½ x 14½″), 4cm tall

Read more

Allô! 👋

Welcome (back) to seasonal sundays, where every week we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, at least one recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. Thank you for reading! If you’d like to invite a friend to subscribe, annual subscriptions are currently discounted for a limited time.

Happy Sunday! I hope you’re all having good weekends so far (if not, I send hugs!!).

Clovers are flowering, wild strawberries are ripening, evenings are getting gloriously long — late spring is in full swing! To make the most of things before the weather really gets too warm, this week we’re talking tender, leafy, herbs and greens.

LEAFY GREEN & TENDER HERB SEASONALITY

Lettuce, like spinach (a relative of quinoa!), arugula, and bok choy (both from the mustardy brassica family), thrives when temperatures are somewhere between cool (but not too cool) and warm (but not too warm).

Despite being available year-round in supermarkets, lettuces are generally at their best in mid- to late spring and in early summer. Once the scorching heat of midsummer’s lengthy days arrives, most lettuces tend to bolt (i.e. send up a flowering head) and their leaves becomes too bitter to eat. The same can be said of bok choy.

If you’re now thinking that your one and only best time to enjoy these tender leafy greens is already nearly over, with no hopes of having another in-season salad until next spring, do not fret: once temperatures and day lengths drop again in late summer and early autumn, a second window of harvesting crops up, and these tender leafy greens return to peak season market once more (they are a bit like artichokes in that way).

Tender herbs like chives, tarragon, coriander, dill, lovage, and parsley are very similar to leafy greens in that they first appear in the cool (but not too cool) spring months and are later also harvested in the warm (but not too warm) days of late summer and early fall.

While these herbs are also prone to bolting, the good news is that some of them can have their season stretched all through high summer thanks to some clever gardening techniques — such as pruning flower heads before they go to seed, giving herbs extra shade, or simply sowing extra seeds later in the growing season (often part of a strategy called succession planting) . In other words, tender herb season is here ‘til fall!

LETTUCE, BOK CHOY & TENDER HERB VARIETIES

It’s easy to think that there are only a few lettuces, one bok choy, and maybe just a couple of different tender herbs varieties, but the truth is that there are plenty.

When shopping for lettuces in late spring and early summer, look for varieties such as: Bibb (or Butter lettuce), Iceberg, Lollo, Batavia (a variety resistant to summer heat!), Romaine, Little Gem (AKA baby romaine), and Oak Leaf, among many others.

Bok choys also come in numerous varieties, but outside of China, those most commonly found in Europe and North America are Shanghai bok choy (with smooth oval leaves and pale green stems — see photo below), dwarf Canton bok choys (small, with white stems and dark green leaves), Tawainese bok choy (with paler leaves and a milder taste), and white bok choy (large, with white stems).

When it comes to tender herbs, I could go on forever listing different varieties — so I won’t. Just know that there is more to parsley than curly or flat-leaf, more to mint than just spear- or pepper-, more to dill than the Bouquet, Como, Mammoth and Delikat varieties most familiar to those with an herb garden.

Diversity is the spice of life so, if you can, do seek out and try new varieties of foods already familiar to you. The surprise that comes with experiencing new-yet-recognisable tastes, scents, textures, and appearances is never not worth the reward.

SHOPPING & STORAGE

For both tender leaves and tender herbs, you’ll want to look for vibrant green leaves and sturdy stems. Any yellowing, wilting, browning or sliminess will be indicative of a plant past its prime. Note, however, that if the leaves are only looking a little tired but otherwise vigorous, a short refresh in ice water can be all that they need to perk them right back into shape.

For quick and easy use, wash and dry your leaves well before storing them in an airtight container, well away from the cold back of the refrigerator. (Tender herbs benefit from also being loosely wrapped in a barely damp cloth, but lettuces generally do fine without.) Kept this way, you should expect to have fresh greens for around five (and up to ten) days.

•••

This week’s issue features two recipes that use tender leaves and tender herbs in combination. Both are intended to help you use up (instead of toss out) an abundant quantity of greens, though if you have access to a garden where you can pick just the right amount, they are of course still a treat to prepare and enjoy without fear of food waste.

If you get bored of salad, extra lettuce can be grilled, made into soup, or used as cups or wraps for savoury fillings. Meanwhile, other ways to use up your herbs could be to make very green falafel or kuku sabzi, or simply to preserve them for another day.

a very green salad dressing 🥗

There are a lot of bright green herb dressing recipes out there. Some include anchovies, others sour cream, others still use avocado. Mine contains none of the above.

INGREDIENTS
makes enough to generously dress two large salads

Read more

Allô! 👋

Welcome (back) to the seasonal sundays supplement to the monthly good food at home newsletter, where every week we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, at least one recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. Thank you for reading! If you haven’t subscribed yet, you can find all previous issues here. Annual subscriptions are currently discounted for a limited time.

Subscribe now

Happy Sunday, and happy June! I hope you’re all doing well. Hard to believe that we’re nearly halfway through the year already. This week, we’re talking artichokes.

ARTICHOKE SEASONALITY & ORIGIN

Artichokes, the (occasionally thorny) buds of immature thistle flowers, are a perennial plant native to the Mediterranean. Much like the wild cardoons they were cultivated from (and perhaps much like you too), they aren’t all that fond of below-freezing temperatures and so tend to be grown in warmer climates (that said, we’ll soon learn that they don’t handle extreme heat all that well either).

Most commonly grown commercially in Egypt, Spain, and Southern Italy (though also abundant in Algeria, China, Peru, Morocco, the USA, and Turkey), you can usually find them in markets and grocers across the globe, which can make understanding their origin and seasonality a little bit tricky. (Speaking of which, you can also grow them as annuals in cooler climates — and a number of farmers do — which helps to extend their season, availability, and diversity around the world, as well as adding to the potential confusion surrounding their seasonality and origin.)

In Italy, artichokes are known to come to market as early as December. In France, you’ll often first see different varieties of artichokes from March and into June. In Egypt, they are most commonly harvested between November and April, while in more temperate or continental climates like those of the UK, Northern USA or Southern Canada, you’re most likely to find locally-grown varieties in mid- to late summer. Meanwhile, in California, fresh artichokes are grown and made available year-round. And, in every zone, there is usually the possibility of a second, smaller crop in the fall.

If this supposedly clarifying information leaves you further befuddled, you’re not alone.

The main thing to remember is that it depends on the varieties and where they are grown. So, while artichokes can be found year-round and across a range of climates, note that those grown in native or native-like hardiness zones are usually best between February and May, while those grown in less traditional hardiness zones are more likely to be harvested from May to August, with both having the possibility of a second, smaller crop anywhere from September through to December.

In Norway, where I live, artichokes tend to be imported year-round from France, Spain, Italy, and Egypt, however the ones that are easiest to find in my neck of the woods always seem to arrive between May and June from France's northwest.

note: if you live in California, you may want to check out the Artichoke Festival happening next weekend — it’s been going on since 1959, and every year they crown an Artichoke Queen, the first of whom was Marilyn Monroe (!)

ARTICHOKE VARIETIES, FLAVOUR NOTES & PAIRINGS

Artichokes range from small and elongated to large and round, from purple to green, and from spiky to smooth-tipped, with all sorts of combinations and permutations in between — Green Globe, Romanesco, Violetta are some of the most popular varieties. What is common to all is that they must be harvested before the heat of summer transforms their meaty flesh into a giant inedible thistle flower.

Despite being praised by many, the flavour of artichokes can be somewhat hard to put into words. Somewhere between vegetal and earthy, it can be described as creamy and even nutty, and its taste can go from mildly bitter when raw to succulently sweet when cooked. Some people say the aroma is reminiscent of fried egg whites, while others still place it somewhere between broccoli stems and asparagus, cabbage and celery. I can’t say I fully agree with any of these — I think a lot of it comes down the variety and how you prepare it — but I do recommend you try them if you haven’t yet, as one thing most of us seem to agree on is that the flavour is well worth the wait.

Common pairings include garlic, lemon, fennel, capers, spinach, and thyme, as well as white wine, butter, olive oil, Parmesan, and most things creamy and dairy.

ARTICHOKE SHOPPING TIPS

In-season artichokes are usually best when very fresh, so when shopping for buds, look for vibrant ones, heavy for their size (i.e. not dried out) that look recently plucked (the cut base of the stems should not look overly oxidised or dry). Limp leaves, dull stalks, and dry tips can all be a sign of an artichoke that may have been sitting a little too long.

As to whether or not your artichoke was plucked at the right time, you’ll want to keep in mind that if left to grow too long, the leaves will open up, the heart and stem will turn fibrous, and the choke will blossom into an inedible flower: this means you’ll want the leaves to be relatively compact. One way to test for this is to give the artichoke a little squeeze: if they feel firm but with a little bit of give, and the top leaves let out a slight squeak, you should be good to go.

Note that if the outer leaves have been exposed to a little bit of frost, they may brown or blacken a little. This discolouration is mostly cosmetic, so not always a good test of whether or not an artichoke is a good pick (in fact, some argue that the exposure to some cold gives the artichoke heart an even sweeter taste).

ARTICHOKE PREPARATION & STORAGE

The way to cook and eat an artichoke is not intuitive, so you’d be forgiven for not knowing how to approach one for the first time. The main things to keep in mind are that most varieties have a hairy choke* in the middle which must be removed as they are not pleasant to eat, and that the top halves of the leaves are usually not eaten either as they are too fibrous. (If you’re more of a visual learner, this video gives a great quick overview on which parts people usually eat.)

When cutting an artichoke, it is common to reserve the trimmed flowerheads in a bowl of water acidulated with squeezed lemon slices or parsley stalks and leaves, to stop the green flesh from oxidising and turning brown before it is cooked. (This can also help to give the spaces between the leaves a bit of a rinse.)

Artichokes can be prepared raw, thinly sliced, or trimmed, in such a way that the meaty flesh located at the base of the leaves and in the heart of the bud can more easily be enjoyed. Common preparations involve boiling, steaming, or deep-frying the artichoke whole, halving it to roast or braise, or cutting away the leaves and chokes (if any) to grill or marinate the hearts.

Plan to enjoy your artichokes ideally within four to five days of purchase (though the fresher, the better). The best way to store them is in a plastic bag, loosely wrapped in a barely moistened cloth (so as to keep them from drying out or being in direct contact with the cold), and tucked away into the crisper drawer of your refrigerator.

*if picked early and small, however, some golfball-sized varieties do not yet contain a choke and can be eaten whole

•••

one artichoke, three dishes 🍋

Artichokes aren’t all that hard to prepare, but they also aren’t all that straightforward to tame. (Do not fret, however: once you get the hang of it all, preparing and enjoying artichokes on the regular really becomes breezy.)

If you’re going to go through the trouble of preparing some, I suggest making the most of the giant thistle buds and making three dishes (plus one condiment) out of one star ingredient:

INGREDIENTS
serves as many as you like, as an appetiser — account for half to one whole artichoke per person

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Allô! 👋

Welcome (back) to the seasonal sundays supplement to the monthly good food at home newsletter, where every week we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, at least one recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. Thank you for reading! If you haven’t subscribed yet, you can find all previous issues here. Annual subscriptions are currently discounted for a limited time.

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Happy Sunday! I hope you’re all doing well. As the weather has been somewhat extreme and unseasonable lately, I also hope you’ve been keeping cool, shaded, and well-hydrated, wherever you may be.

I myself went paddle-boarding (!) for the first time this year just last weekend as it was almost 30°C (86°F) out, and I must say that it felt a tad dystopian to be doing something so summery so early in May (especially considering that I was floating on a hilltop lake way up in Scandinavian latitudes).

In spite of the unusual warmth this week, things are really starting to look not like summer but like late spring as rhubarb makes its grand entrance all across cool and moderate parts of the Northern Hemisphere (apologies to anyone living in warmer, drier climes).

RHUBARB SEASONALITY & ORIGIN

If you live in the UK you may have encountered very pink stalks of forced rhubarb (typically grown in West Yorkshire in an area known as the Rhubarb Triangle) back in late winter / early spring this year.

These are effectively the same species of rhubarb that are currently in season at the moment, typically from late spring to early summer: the main difference between the two is simply that forced rhubarb is grown under cover and in the dark so that its stalks become extra pink* and sweet, as well as being ready to harvest ahead of its natural season.

In today’s issue, however, we’re focusing on garden varieties of rhubarb, grown outdoors for the sun to kiss: this crimson vegetable is a perennial species native to cool, moderate parts of Asia and Europe (though it has also been naturalised in parts of North America and Oceania), as it requires cold winters and moist, moderate springs to thrive. That hasn’t stopped it from being popular elsewhere, however, and in fact its name refers to the legend that Ancient Romans loved it so much, they used to import it from barbarians living across the Volga (then called Rha) River: hence Rha barbarum, the latin terms which eventually gave us „rhabarber“ in German, « rhubarbe » in French, and “rhubarb” in English.

*no sunlight means no chlorophyll production — the same technique (also called blanching) is used for all sorts of vegetables, such as Belgian endives, leeks, white asparagus, and celery, generally to achieve a more delicate colour, tender texture, and sweeter flavour within a same plant variety.

RHUBARB FLAVOUR NOTES & PAIRINGS

You may be surprised to know that rhubarb is well suited to being eaten raw when freshly picked (just don’t eat the leaves), a bit like you could happily bite into a juicy stalk of just-harvested celery or asparagus. That said, unlike fresh celery and asparagus, you’ll likely want to dip your stalks into some sugar before digging in.

Rhubarb has a flavour reminiscent of green apple, sorrel, and unripe pear, with subtle hints of immature peach and even underripe plum. While this may sound nice in theory, what all of these tart flavour notes mean in practice is that rhubarb is, for most of us, too sour to enjoy without some gentle coaxing from the addition of heat and/or something sweet.

Common pairings include apples, pears, and peaches (usually preserved in some way), almonds, ginger, and cardamom, as well as co-seasonal strawberries, elderflower, and roses.

RHUBARB SHOPPING TIPS

In-season rhubarb is usually best when very fresh, so when shopping for stalks, look for ones that are firm with taut skins. Limp or dull stalks can still be enjoyable, though at that stage they are usually best suited for cooking down into compotes for chutneys and crumbles, porridges or pies.

Colour-wise, green stalks are usually just as nice as redder ones — the colour is more an indicator of how much (or little) sunlight the plant received during its growth than of taste — but pinker stalks do tend to be more mellow. If you look at the bottom of a stalk, on the opposite end of the leafy base, and see some brownness (oxidation) appearing, you’ll know that the stalks were picked a little while ago.

If plucking your own rhubarb from a garden, all you have to do is look for a good-looking stalk, grab it firmly by the base, and twist it out of the soil. Remove the brown papery bit from the bottom of the stalk, slash off the leaves (their high oxalic content is what makes them toxic to humans), rinse well, and enjoy.

RHUBARB TROUBLESHOOTING & STORAGE

Much like celery, when chopping up rhubarb you may notice some stringiness in your stalks. Those fibrous filaments are fine to eat, but can be stripped away with a knife if you prefer. Just note that you may lose some colour from the stalks in doing so.

Similarly, as with asparagus, sometimes the base of a rhubarb stalk can get quite tough and woody (especially as the season progresses into warmer and drier days). If faced with a partially tough stalk, simply cut off and compost its bottom and keep the tender tops to use as you otherwise would.

Lastly, as with celery and asparagus, rhubarb stores best when placed in a glass of fresh water and refrigerated with a produce bag draped over top. Trouble is, most of us don’t have fridge shelves tall enough to contain upright rhubarb! Your second best bet, then, is to keep them well-wrapped in a clean cloth, pop them into a plastic bag (bottom of the stalks tucked into the bottom of the bag), then place them in your crisper / vegetable drawer to use within a week or so, and up to three weeks.

•••

The inspiration for the recipe below comes from The Anchor & Hope gastro pub located in South London, whose brilliant team served a gorgeous grappa panna cotta with Yorkshire rhubarb on their menu back in 2023. I first dined at the restaurant in September of 2022 and would likely have licked every plate clean had I not been raised so well by my family, with whom I shared a memorable meal there.

I never did get the chance to try their poached rhubarb and panna cotta, but I have been thinking about it ever since. Seeing as dropping everything to travel to a far-off place for a taste of something delicious is outrageous (and time travel impossible), I decided that this year, I simply had try my hand at making my own. The result was even more swoonworthy than I could have imagined. So thank you to The Anchor & Hope for the inspiration. Below is my tribute to their tantalising dessert.

cardamom panna cotta & vanilla poached rhubarb 🥄

Most modern panna cotta recipes rely on gelatine to transform fresh, unwhipped cream and finely ground caster sugar into a dessert that holds its shape when cold and, while that may provide a fast solution for producing the decadent dairy dessert we all know and love, that isn’t the only way to arrive at a delicately smooth melt-in-the-mouth result.

Gelatine can quickly turn cream rubbery and stiff, and isn’t all that predictable from brand to brand or country to country (some people also say it smells of barnyard). Meanwhile, it turns out that, historically, panna cotta — “cooked cream” in Italian — likely wasn’t made with any gelatine at all and, instead, involved cooking the cream (as its name suggests) to gently coax the ingredients into a rich, ivory upstanding dessert.

Rhubarb in season makes a perfect complement to the meltingly cool cream, but you are of course welcome to serve the panna cotta with the accompaniment of your choice — likewise, the poached rhubarb will be just at home swirled through yoghurt or layered through a coffee cake. How you use the recipe below is up to you.

•••

INGREDIENTS
for 2 generous (or 4 conservative) portions

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Allô! 👋

Welcome (back) to the seasonal sundays section of the good food at home newsletter, where every week we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, at least one recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. If you would like to further support the newsletter and help it grow, feel free to hit the heart button at the top of this page, leave a comment, refer a friend, or share the newsletter via the button below!

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Happy Sunday! I hope you’ve woken up refreshed and excited for another great day.

Here in Norway we’re currently having a rather festive long weekend — Friday (May 17th) was Norway’s Constitution Day, which celebrates the signing of the country’s constitution in 1814 (the world’s second oldest working constitution, after the American one) with champagne breakfasts, traditional folk costumes, children’s parades, waving to and from royalty (see below), garden games, patriotic music, and lots …and lots of hot dogs and ice cream. The whole day is just a big party, and this year we’ve been extra lucky with fantastic weather, spring blossoms flowering all up and down the country, and a second public holiday on Monday to help the festive weekend mood last a little longer still.

Last week I was telling you all about spring greens like nettles and dandelions and how they seem to pop up underfoot just about everywhere you look.

This week, we’re putting the focus on spring flowers like lilacs and cherry blossoms, which seem to be appearing overhead just about everywhere you go (and what a wonderful thing to breathe in and inspire — in all senses of the term). Much like spring greens, it’s a very short season, so best catch these blooms while you still have the chance.

Among others, edible spring blossoms that commonly blossom mid-May (depending on your location) include: magnolias, dandelions, elderflower, lilacs, and tulips, as well as blossoms from fruiting species such as strawberry plants and apple, cherry, quince, crabapple, peach, pear, and plum trees.

Many alliums, such as wild garlic, chives, and spring onion, also begin to flower at this time of year, and their pretty pointy petals are indeed deliciously edible too.

Further in the season, other enticing blossoms start to appear, so do keep an eye out in natural areas as well as farmers’ markets and greengrocers’ for blooms such as roses (both cultivated and wild), daisies, peonies, sweet alyssum, zucchini blossoms, and pineapple weed — while other edible species still await us later in the summer (flowers like yarrow, chrysanthemum, nasturtium, hibiscus, and lavender, among others).

Not all spring blossoms are edible or flavoursome, however, and there are some common sense ground rules that ought to be observed when picking foods you have not grown yourself to eat. With all these blossoms, be sure to pick from plants that:

a) you have correctly identified as edible and desirable*,
b) were not growing near roads, dog-walking areas, or chemically sprayed,
c) you have permission to pick,
d) you treat responsibly (i.e. don’t damage the plant during harvest, leave at least two thirds behind for birds, pollinators and the plant’s own health and reproduction, and don’t pick anything if the plant looks wilted, dusty, damaged, or otherwise unhealthy), and
e) you might like to harvest from later in the season (this one applies especially to fruiting plants — no flower, no fruit).

Pick your flowers on a warm dry day, preferably in the morning, to use within a few hours†. Only consume the petals (not the stalks, pistils, or stems) and, as with any new foods, try a small amount first to check for any adverse reactions, on the off chance that you, specifically, react poorly to ingesting that particular species of plant‡.

*if in doubt, do not eat — this applies not only to the species, but also the variety: not all varieties of magnolias are edible, for example, while red elder flowers don’t taste all that great compared to lychee-perfumed black elder flowers (meanwhile, some black elder flowers smell horrible altogether)

†you may also pop them into an airtight container and refrigerate them for up to a day before use, but freshly picked is best

‡this is especially noteworthy if you already react poorly (or are allergic) to pollen

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spring blossoms, six ways

Every week I try to stick to one recipe, and almost every week I get too excited by the season’s best ingredients to stick to my own self-imposed rule. You’re welcome.

From savoury to sweet, involved to uncomplicated, rapidly pleasing to slowly gratifying, I’ve got it all in this week’s spring blossom special.

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Allô! 👋

Welcome (back) to the seasonal sundays section of the good food at home newsletter, where every week we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, a recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. If you would like to further support the newsletter and help it grow, feel free to hit the like button, leave a comment, refer a friend, or share the newsletter via the button below!

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Happy Sunday! I hope you’re all having a very relaxing and pleasant weekend. This week, we’re putting the focus on spring greens (I first considered featuring asparagus — our local spears have only just popped up in stores this week! — but instead I’ve got you covered on that topic in today’s cooking Q&A down below).

Now, by spring greens, I don’t specifically mean the young fresh cabbage shoots which are actually called “spring greens” (Brassica oleracea), though I might as well include them in my round-up. No, what we’re talking about here this week are spring greens more broadly — those young, tender, leafy greens that are often the first new edible things to pop up in spring.

I say “pop up” very intentionally, because that really is what they seem to do: one day the ground looks barren, and then the next day, suddenly, they’re there. They grow shockingly fast, making the most of the increased daylight of spring all while racing against the blazing warmth of summer. When immature, a lot of these greens can be sweet and subtle and gentle on the palate (at least, compared to their more mature counterparts — think of tatsoi, spinach, sorrel, miner’s lettuce, arugula, watercress, as well as radish and turnip tops). Once fully grown, they often range from astringent and bitter to downright spicy and inedible. Hence why the time to seize them is now†.

†at least, it still is up here in my climate zone

The other reason why I used the term “pop up” to refer to these greens is that I’ve been accidentally (and literally) stumbling across them in the wild all week. I’ll be out in my neighbourhood and suddenly notice familiar green stuff that wasn’t there a few days before. I’ll come back the next day and take some pictures, do some research, try my best to ID the thing until I am 100% certain of its nature. Then I’m out again, this time armed with a basket, a thick gardening glove, and a little harvesting knife — or, if I’m intent on jogging for part of the journey, a pair of scissors and a flimsy bag tucked into a zipped pocket instead. (I know, I know, running with scissors, but at least I’m not running with a knife!!) Next thing I knew, I’d scooped up some stinging nettles, dandelion, and Turkish rocket‡ all because I happened to catch sight of new green things popping up around me — no gardening required.

‡also known as warty cabbage… doesn’t exactly have the same ring to it, though

Most of you may not be as keen on foraging bitter and biting leaves as I am, but don’t worry, I like to shop in stores and buy good old spinach, baby kale, and arugula too.

While these greens are often touted as a healthy choice (you likely don’t need me to tell you that they are incredibly nutrient-dense), I should also hope that you might also find them appealing because of their taste, beauty, and ephemeral nature.

Including them in our meals represents not only a great opportunity to give our bodies a little health boost, it can also be a fun and delicious way to diversify our diets all while celebrating and embracing nature’s changing rhythms.

Young spring greens can be nice in salads, though I do generally prefer to cook them a little, or at least dress them generously before enjoying them (as with mature kale, a little massage goes a long way too).

If not making a salad or stir-frying them, however, my next favourite way of enjoying them is in, on, and through pasta:

Refer a friend

green pasta, three ways

I’m not sure why, but eating your greens is a lot more fun when you turn your whole meal green. Below I’ll show you how I’ve made green pasta, green sauce, as well as an extra green combination of the two. If you prefer to stir the sauce through risotto or use the wet ingredients for the green pasta as a base for a green omelette instead, be my guest. So long as you’re making good food and having good fun, it’s entirely up to you how you choose to get there.

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fresh green pasta dough

serves 4

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Allô! 👋

Welcome (back) to the seasonal sundays section of the good food at home newsletter, where every week we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, a recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. If you would like to further support the newsletter and help it grow, feel free to hit the like button, leave a comment, refer a friend, or share the newsletter via the button below!

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Happy Sunday! I hope your weekend has been off to a great start. This week, we’re digging into the rousing world of radishes — those sometimes round, occasionally ruby, and always ravishing cousins of cruciferous mustards and brassicas like broccoli, cabbage, kale, and (you guessed it) horseradish.

Ready to harvest just a few weeks after sowing, salad radishes are, for many of us, a herald of early spring dining. Freshly plucked, they are delightful simply scrubbed, rinsed, and dipped in salted butter. Add a fresh baguette to the mix, and you’ve got yourself a refreshing taste of seasonal heaven.

RADISHES IN ALL FORMS

As you perhaps already know, radishes come in all sorts of varieties, colours, shapes, and sizes. While the smaller, one-tone (yellow, purple, pink, and white) so-called “salad varieties” are most common in spring, heftier, often two-tone (pink and green, white and green, purple and white, plain cream, or all black) types tend to be more prominent in summer, fall, and winter. Big and small, squat and tall, you must eventually try them all to see which you like best.

Because spring radishes grow very quickly* (and hence are available so early in the season), they generally do not last a very long time. Luckily, you can make the most of the plant at nearly every phase of growth: the sprouts make for lovely microgreens and, after the root bulb has grown past its palatable stage, the plant’s beautiful seed pods and delicate flowers can be eaten too.

*for more on growing radishes + a gorgeous radish recipe, do check out ’s recent post on the topic

FLAVOUR NOTES

Another point of variation is taste. Radishes are known for their peppery bite, and their potency can range from pleasingly punchy to downright pungent. If radishes are new to your regular rotation, do proceed with prudence (that is to say, maybe don’t bite into a raw Korean radish unless you know exactly what you’re doing).

Indeed, the whole of a radish is, in fact, edible, so if you do get radishes with lovely green leaves on them, try to make good use of those leafy tops by popping them into a salad, stir-frying them through some noodles, or adding them to your next soup or omelette. When enjoyed fresh, one often finds the tops to be as delightfully crisp, refreshing, and peppery as the radish bulbs themselves.

SHOPPING TIPS

When shopping for radishes, look for ones that still have their leaves on if you can — their appearance will be the best indication of the radishes’ freshness (the fresher the leaf, the fresher the bulb).

Otherwise, the next thing to look for is a plump root with smooth skin, firm flesh, and vibrant colour. Dry, tough, and woody radishes are most likely too old, and will almost always be too spicy to handle, while anything overly spongy, soft, or wrinkly probably hasn’t been stored well and might not be safe to eat.

STORAGE

When it comes to storage, you will want to separate the radish bulb from its leaves (and perhaps also its thin root tail), regardless of whether you plan on eating or composting them, as the leaves will continue to pull nutrients from the bulb even post-harvest†.

Once harvested/cut, the leaves generally won’t last much longer than three days stored in the same way as you would fresh tender herbs, but the radish bulb itself can easily stay quite crisp and peppy in an airtight container for up to two weeks in the refrigerator.

†this is true of any root vegetable — so do remember to always separate the leaves from the root before storing!

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five ways with radishes

I grew up in the French school system, where lunches are an attempt at teaching children how meals should be eaten, i.e. in multiple courses, with proper cutlery and tableware, and with no snack-like elements in sight — oh, and only water to drink.

While I do believe there are many merits to this strategy, my school’s particular meals frequently featured an astounding array of under-seasoned, overcooked, and ill-prepared menu options.

Among these were (bizarrely undressed) salads which, quite often, would include large chunks of raw radish. I don’t know about you, but it seemed then (and still seems to me now) a tad bit presumptuous to assume that the average child would be happy and willing to plop a big chunk of raw, slightly dried out, sometimes sandy, radish right onto their tongue, without any reservation‡.

It took me years before I could trust a radish again, but these days I find myself actually looking forward to popping them on a plate. Having gone from radish revolter to radish reformer, I hope I can offer you some inspiration for how to include these seasonal delights on your own menu — no reservations required.

‡: don’t get me wrong, repeated exposure is most certainly the way to learn to like new foods, it’s just that proper preparation is also key

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Here are five of my go-to no-recipe recipes for simple and delicious radishes, arranged from least daunting (to me) in flavour to most:

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Allô! 👋

Hello, and thank you for being here! Welcome (back) to the seasonal sundays section of the good food at home newsletter, where every week we take a closer peek at produce at its peak — with a short introduction, a recipe, and a (sometimes related) cooking Q&A. If you’re a new subscriber and would like to read the previous issues, you can click here to find them!

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Chives, scallions or green onions*, ramps and ramsons (wild leeks and garlic!), shallot shoots, spring onions, overwintered leeks and baby leeks, green garlic — for many of us, this mouthful of diverse young alliums represent the first true taste of spring. And, oh, what a zing they bring!

Before local radishes and asparagus — let alone rhubarb and peas — are ready for harvest (but well after we’ve cultivated a burgeoning taste for all things young and fresh), immature alliums are often there for us, first in line to grace our springtime plates and palates. While some don’t get as much fanfare as others, each variety has its virtues and ought not be shunned in favour of a more fashionable cousin (sure, ramps† are cool, but don’t forget that scallions are too).

*they mostly designate the same thing but, on occasion, “scallion” will specifically refer to a bunching allium species that never forms a bulb, while “green onion” might explicitly mean a young onion that just hasn’t had a chance to form a bulb yet

†a good reminder to please forage responsibly

Milder than their more mature counterparts, early spring alliums know how to pack a flavour punch in the gentlest of ways. Not yet overly strong nor pungent, these are tender aromatics that will treat you right, taking you on a delicate re-introductory path towards fresh seasonal foods, all without lingering past their welcome (nobody likes onion or garlic breath hours post-meal, and spring alliums thankfully appear a lot less likely to be guilty of inflicting this on you than more mature alliums do).

If you see fresh, tender, vibrant-looking alliums on your next shopping trip (or in your outdoor spaces), do give them an enthusiastic chance! No need to plan how to use them ahead of time. These youthful culinary pioneers always find a way to make almost any dish more lively, infusing it with a taste of the gentle promise of a summer to come. Buy some. Harvest some. They are bound to lift and inspire your cooking.

And, in case you find your creativity momentarily lacking, allow me vivify your imagination: young alliums go marvellously well with eggs — in omelettes and quiches for example, but also quite simply on top of a scramble, an omelette, or a fried egg (or an egg that has plainly been boiled, in or out of its shell) — and are also a hoot when used with pastry, for example in an allium tatin. Use them to make pestos and curry pastes, toss them through pasta. Base dressings, vinaigrettes or sauces around them. Pop them on or through rice and other grains, enjoy them with potatoes, serve them on and in broths. The possibilities are as endless as they are potentially delicious, and the last thing I want to do is to narrow your mind by providing you with just the one recipe below. So please, enjoy spring alliums while you can (much like us, they won’t be young forever). Go forth, explore and enjoy!

•••

THE RECIPE

The first thing that popped up in my garden this year, no intervention needed, were chives. They’ve always been the first perennial to return to life here, and spotting those wee tubular blades of oniony grass is always a sight for sore garden-hungry eyes (they just keep on getting more and more vigorous with each passing year!). Meanwhile, the first fresh thing to pop up at my local farm shop, alongside microgreens planted around the start of spring, are almost always green onions (AKA scallions, see above).

When the season’s first alliums come in, I like to make something in which they are the focus, and not just a garnish. This year, that meant combining all my favourite elements from the multiculturally diverse paratha-derivations I happen to know and love, and putting them together into my ultimate flaky flatbread.

scallion pancakes / parathas / roti
🇨🇳🇮🇳🇯🇲

Much like Chinese and Tawainese cōng yóu bǐng (scallion pancakes) are thought to, Jamaican roti and Trinidadian buss up shut exist thanks to the international export of Indian parottas (parathas). Though many more variants appear in other cultures around the world, the flaky flatbreads I am most familiar with are scallion pancakes, parathas, and the Jamaican roti I grew up with. The following recipe is my personal mish-mash of all the parts I like most from each.

For best results, keep three things in mind:

a. Kneading the dough well and enough is key,
b. Let the dough rest as long as you can, and
c. The thinner you roll out your dough the first time around, the flakier your pancake / paratha / roti will be.

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INGREDIENTS

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