How could I not fall for borlotti beans? Not only do they look like little birds eggs when they’re dried but they’re summer produce that keep’s one winter to ensure the heartiest of appetites satisfied. If I was a vegetarian this would be my meat. But alas I have accepted that I am carnivore to the core, and thus the borlotti breakfast I make is enhanced by a stick of chorizo, bacon, prosciutto or pancetta. You get the drift.
So I’m writing this book, which obviously centres around food. After writing recipe after recipe I’m noticing that I prefer to list the ingredient in terms of how I cook, which is pretty free and easy. I don’t like rules, they’re too restrictive. And the way I cook is with a fairly casual demeanour. A handful of kale to me is a measurement. A glug of olive oil is a measurement. A glass of wine is a measurement. I found that mostly I’ve been writing with some more precise measurements like a cup of this and a litre of that, which is fine but for herbs and olive oil etc I’ve been more casual. Surely the rustic food we eat shouldn’t be held down by making people trying to cook it so finical about getting every measurement absolutely perfect. Cook by flavour, tasting as you go along. How does everyone else do it?
This morning I walked out to the backyard, picked a hand full of brown Kale, some Reedy Spinach and stewed it with a few fresh herbs, beans, chorizo, passata etc. It’s one of my favourite meals. A gardeners breakfast. THe full recipe will definitely go in the book.