The wind and rain have torn the back garden apart and squalls persist, all in a mauve or yellow light like a bruised eye blinking. Nothing too destructive though, and my heart goes out to the people of Joplin.
When I go outdoors I am amazed to find the air saturated with sweetness from my rose-scented pelargonium, grown from a cutting found in the Swartberg mountains of the Klein Karoo, a small-leaved indigenous pelargonium that has the hidden power to make the wet storm-blasted garden smell like a Persian rose bower in summer.
For supper last night I made a comforting leek and butternut squash risotto with Parmesan and a side dish of cherry tomato salsa. My heart is vegetarian and I was happily dreaming up more vegetarian/vegan dishes with firm tofu and delectable steamed gem squashes and thinly sliced fennel and roasted garlic, oh bliss, when our farmer neighbour arrived with half a pig, just slaughtered and cut up, ordered in January. The housemate brightened up at once and began to rave about slow-braised pork belly and Dijon-mustard coated pork loin with cannelini beans.
Life on life’s terms, as they say. I got out Fergus Henderson’s classic piggy cookbook Nose to Tail.
