Change & Sunsets on a plate: Roasted Squash & Parsnip with Rice & Lentil mix

Change. It's all around. The only constant. Why then haven't we learnt to understand a way to live with it, to thrive with its presence, to figure it out?

It's been three weeks, almost four since I wrote about being held up in my little abode, munching on chocolate cookies and trying to keep the cold away. Such a lot has changed in three weeks. I think about the future constantly when I worry and what I'll do, if I'm closer to my goals of travelling, writing, photographing, farming, surfing, crafting. I wonder if I'll ever get there and then I stop. I stop and realize that the change I long for also entails a change that speeds past as I over-think. It's almost the end of March. December will arrive again and my plans for winter sun escapes and new experiences will be before me in no time. I'm detached from time but I'm also obsessed with it. It's like a wicked spell. The more I want it to hurry up so I can be on a farm by the sea, the faster time passes and I fall into a trap of losing precious time that runs concurrently to my fast paced thoughts.

I've given change a lot of the thought recently and my relationship to it. Last summer, someone asked me a simple but mind-opening question: "What it be like if you treated yourself with the love and care you would give to a child who'd had a difficult time?". I thought about what I would do. I'd bring the kid for walks in the park, on the beach, through fields and forests. I'd cook her whatever she wanted while at the same time making delicious, colourful, seasonal food. I'd dish up her dishes like she was at a restaurant so that she would feel as though she were special. I'd make her mornings stress free. I'd create a warm home, a sanctuary of a room where she could think through her thoughts calmly, creatively, with freedom. I'd listen to everything she had to say; her worries, dreams, current concerns. I'd bring her to the movies, invite her friends over, create fun drawings and sketches, take photos, plant vegetables, dig soil, collect feathers, knit, sing and make her hot chocolate when it was cold.

I'd still make sure to pay the bills, earn some money to take care of both of us, put out the bins every second week, remember her appointments but the priority would be to help her feel happy, relaxed and creative in the now and to learn that change happens everyday but that was nothing to fear, that was all part of the natural cycle of things, like seasons, tides and cycles of the moon.

It's strange how city life can take over, blanket the carefree, simple wants of a creative soul. When I first arrived here, I thought it would be temporary. Get a job, save and then head off, moving from one warm farm by the sea to another. Then I stayed, spent my money, got caught up, got impatient, prioritized the little stuff of bills and treats. I started to forget about what adults call the little things but actually they are the most important. Connection with nature, free time, creativity, love, friendship.

Some mornings I wake up and stare out my new back garden in wonderment and awe at its beauty and all the plans I have to give it my time and love and energy. Then I come home after work and the spirit is gone. Other mornings I think I could happily stay here for years, grow into the house, maybe meet someone to share this little place with. Then I start making lists and sketches of places I want to travel to in flip flops and sunburnt shoulders next February. It's a battle with change and I'm starting to learn, a futile one.

A friend told me this morning that she'd seen my ex, spoken with him, that he looked the same as always, tall and strong, happy, healthy, that it was good to see him. It's been a year and a half since we broke up and five months since we last saw each other and spoke and yet I wanted to puke as I tried to smile and asked "Wow. How is he?". I would struggle to utter his name. Some change is easier than others. I'm not in love with him anymore and haven't been for a long time and yet the fear of bumping into him, of hearing his voice, of knowing anything about him, hurts. The heart doesn't forget, it seems.

Last weekend, a great friend told me that while she had lived in South Korea for eight months, she read my blog and was impressed with the honesty. She said we all go through the things I write about but that somehow me being honest and writing about what I'm going through makes her feel less worried about herself, feel less alone. Sometimes I write a blog post like this one and freak out. I worry how other people will think of me, what they'll say, how they'll react, how they'll judge me and how I write about what's going on and that the food, the photography sometimes comes secondary, even though it all links together.

Then I stop and think about that little girl that needs some help and not some judgement. I've had a rough few years but this morning I laughed my ass off as I read a text from a great friend. I sat in my cozy sitting room and ate warming porridge as I looked out my window and admired the progress of a full day spent in the garden yesterday. I shared a joke about companion planting with another great friend. We talked about planting out early. It felt like the most important thing to talk about all day and I was so happy that it was focused around growing. I cracked jokes with students in school and the sun was still up nearly two hours after finishing work. These are all expansive changes from last year. I'm proud of the changes I've made. I'm proud of how I've moved closer to myself. That's change too.

The idea now is to trust in change, accept that it exists and stay present no matter what that might involve. Looking back on my instagram account, I noticed how prevalent oranges and reds were, as though I needed those colors in my food and line of vision to keep me warm through winter.

These recipes celebrate how vibrant orange foods kept me warm, brought color into my kitchen and a smile to my face, like a sunset on a plate. Squash and parsnip are the neglected winter veggies often enough. They seem arduous to prepare and complicated to cook but when handled with care and a few tricks, they glow from a plate and warm your belly full of winter goodness. Celebrating the last of winter with this recipe feels right. Like I'm celebrating the now and embracing what it has to offer.

I hope my writing helps you, makes you think/laugh/sigh/any other emotion you want to feel. I hope the recipe helps you to reconnect with the season before it goes away and prepare for Spring this weekend. Thanks for reading.

Butternut Squash 
Ingredients:                                                        
I large butternut squash                                 
1 handful of fresh thyme                                 
2 Tbs Coconut oil melted                           
Salt and pepper to season                    
                                                           
                                                             
Parsnip  
Ingredients: 
4-6 Large parsnips       
2 tsp cumin seeds    
1 tsp coriander seeds
2 Tbs Coconut oil melted        
1 Tbs honey
salt and pepper to taste

Rice & Lentils 
Ingredients:
1 cup mixed red, black & white rice
1 cup puy lentils 
4 cups cold water

METHOD:
Preheat oven to 190 C. Slice squash into inch thick circular slices, leaving the seeds intact. Place on a baking sheet. Drizzle with oil, thyme, salt and pepper and place in oven and cook for 50-60 minutes, turning over half way. Peel parsnips and cut length ways into thick strips (like potato wedges). Place on a baking sheet and drizzle with oil, toss in cumin seeds, coriander seeds and salt and pepper. Leave the honey aside for the last five minutes. Cook for 40-50 minutes. At the last five minutes, when the parsnips are cooked through (skewer with a knife), toss the honey through and place back in for a final blast of heat.

For the rice and lentils, measure out the rice and puy and place into pot. Add cold water, place a lid on the pot and bring to the boil, then turn low and simmer for 40 minutes or until all the water has been evaporated. 

I served all these together with a quick dressing of 2 tbs olive oil and juice of half a lemon mixed through the rice. Bliss. Hope you enjoyed the writing and you make the most of the last few days of winter.

February Beginnings: Warming Lentil and Potato Curry

February 1^st was the day I intended to write, photograph and upload my first post since the beginning of the year. I planned to write a post about the New Year but the beginning of February seems more appropriate. As a kid, Winter’s snows were welcome but the long, dark days inside in a classroom or on front of the tv were not. I craved being outside, planting seeds, trekking through a forest or watching sunsets by the lake near my house. When I first learnt about St. Brigid, it was as though something was awakened in my mind and my heart. Here was this supposedly religious figure but trekking out into the marshy grounds to harvest soft, foam filled reeds and transform them into delicately woven crosses to bless a house and welcome Spring through your door equally transformed her. She was no longer some boring saint in my mind; she was a beautiful, truly Celtic feminine figure whose earthly hands were guiding us from the harsh cold darkness of winter into the green, renewed energy of Spring. I no longer pictured an old haggard saintly woman but an earthly, thriving maternal figure exuding freshness and vitality. When I grew up, I wanted to be her.

January is usually associated with new beginnings and I would always push myself towards that goal of fixing, doing, learning, tidying. Now I realize that January is the last grasp of bitter cold and is meant to be spent resting, contemplating, thinking, and the calmer of the endless list of actions we could be setting ourselves. This year, I intended to spend January getting ready so that when February came, I would be in a settled environment. I hadn’t intended to move house so soon, it just happened. Now that I’m here (I moved in at the weekend), I have a renewed sense of purpose coupled with a deep thankfulness for the place I’m in.

A new kitchen, a different bedroom, my own bathroom and most importantly a garden, are all here. Yesterday, the first day of Spring, I pottered around my new house, looking at the light and where it reaches in the house. I made a delicious and warming lunch and then walked, Forrest Gump style, as far as my legs would take me to the coast road and beyond. I didn’t bring a watch or a phone, only enough money for a hot chocolate on the way back and my camera.

You may have noticed that when I’m happy, I cook a lot and take plenty of photographs. When I’m distracted and confused, I don’t. The inspiration for this blog came from dedicating myself to those things, people, places and activities that make my heart soar. St. Brigid’s day brought it all back. In the hype and chaos of moving house and organizing all that that entails for January, yesterday was my time to regain those loves. I felt like a child listening to birds, watching the variety of light and shade, looking out for ripples along the sand after the outgoing tide, hunting down the sunset, bounding through the sand dunes, being snap happy.

I intended to make a dish that was green and supercharged but in the end, without realizing it, I cooked up something earthier. Baby potatoes, brown lentils and filling poached eggs combine in this dish with earthy warm cumin and turmeric to warm the toes and remind me that this day was just the beginning. The beginning of simpler eating with tasty, fresh, vibrant ingredients for this Spring to come. Sitting on my couch in my new sitting room, warm plate of food on my lap and candles burning in the distance, I couldn't help but look back and be thankfully aware of what a difference a year makes. This time last year, I was in New Zealand, jet-lagged but happy with the sunshine, surf, barefooted and blissed out. This year, my toes are cold and I miss those black sand days but I’m thankful for the experience and excited about what 2015 holds for me.  I’m proud of how far I’ve come from the lost lamb I was last year.

My mum, somehow, found a photo of a painting of St. Brigid, an artist’s impression of the saint and sent it to me yesterday. I felt like my mam and the artist were both mind readers. There she was: who I wanted to be when I grew up. Fresh-faced, feminine, full of vitality, dressed in green, covered in spirals and jewelry, she exuded birth, growth and renewing energy. She looked like a mother, a healer, a grower and a lover all in one and represented a profound and confident connection and insight into nature. These images of nature in the city, sunsets and warming plates of natural, real food are an offering to St. Brigid. Often I wonder when I will ever be pregnant with a loving man by my side, a house by the sea and the surf, a garden full of vegetables, a community around me, just like her. Then I realize that over the years I've created little pockets of that existence. This cottage in the city is the next step. It’s in the middle of the city but close to the sea with a small but beautiful garden, covered in wild garlic. My step this Spring is to mingle my food, photography and writing with my kitchen, garden and the sea around the corner. 2015 is the year to do it all and February is the perfect time. I've never been as excited or as proud.

Serves 2

INGREDIENTS:

6 baby potatoes (washed and cubed)

1 tsp cumin seeds

½ cup brown lentils (washed and drained)

1 organic veggie stock cube

1 red onion (sliced finely into half-moon shapes)

3 cloves garlic (diced finely or crushed)

1 tsp turmeric

2 eggs

Salt and pepper

A handful of fresh coriander (chopped roughly)

1 tbsp of oil (I used coconut) for frying

METHOD:

In a pot, add the potatoes, cumin seeds, lentils, stock cubes and some salt and pepper to 1 and ½ cups of cold water. Bring to the boil and simmer for 15 minutes until potatoes and lentils and cooked through. Meanwhile, fry the onion and garlic in some oil in a frying pan on a low heat until softened.

Once the potatoes and lentils are cooked, add the entire mix to the onions in the frying pan and stir through, mixing in the turmeric. Stir and taste, adding extra and salt and pepper if needed. 

Crack two eggs directly onto the lentil potato mix. Put a glass lid over the eggs to allow them to poach in the steam and the liquid. Usually, 3 mins does the trick. You want them to be soft poached. Serve on a plate with a seasoning of salt and pepper and a good handful of fresh coriander. Enjoy!

Simple squash and the surf countdown

 

Squash is a strange sort of veggie. For a LONG time, I was baffled by their tough waxy skin and its seemingly bland taste. I always thought it was one vegetable of various forms, all tasting of nothing much. This whole outlook changed over the last few years. Now I can think of practically no other vegetable that is as tasty, versatile or magic to look at in a bowl of food or growing in a back garden. Now, it's simply a wonder food. Filling but not starchy. Bursting with a multitude of colours, textures and flavours depending on how you choose to cook it. A pantry staple. Have I gone on about it long enough?

 

Why bother to peel, chop and cook this simplest of squashes and what motivated this busylittlefoodie to do such a thing on a January day? Well, for those who know me best, I am in complete denial of the weather around me. All my clothes are summer clothes, more appropriate to beaches and barbeques than rainy, overcast January days in Ireland. It's fitting then that I'm a mere 5 (!!!!!) days away from leaving for New Zealand, I'm having cravings for smoothies, colourful salads and sunshine colours all around me. These are things that are decidedly missing at the moment. Instead of getting down in the dumps about it, I decided to embrace the Irish weather, winter salad style take 2.

 

This recipe keeps the warmth of hazelnuts that was in my last recipe but also has the added yumminess and warmth of toasted coriander seeds, honey roasted squash, plenty of garlic to keep colds and flus away, rocket for a fiery kick and chickpeas for energy and warmth.

 

This salad is great as it's made in 3 parts. Part 1: Roasted squash-can be done the night before or in a batch every few days. Step 2: Roasting the other veg, chickpeas and nuts-can also be done the night before and stored in fridge to add to greens for your lunch. Step 3: Add roughly chopped greens-takes 2 minutes. It's a great salad that can be chopped and changed and is perfect for people who want a hearty, fresh meal but say there's never time to make a fancy salad.

 

Hope you like it. I'll be posting once more, I hope, before I leave for New Zealand and then expect plenty of photos from Raglan. The surf countdown begins! Thank you for reading as always!

Bliss X

 



 

Ingredients: (Feeds 2)

PART 1: SQUASH

1/2 butternut squash, peeled and chopped into cubes

2 cloves of garlic, crushed

1 tbs honey

1 tbs olive oil/coconut oil

 

Method:

Preheat oven to 190 degrees C. Prepare squash. Stir through the garlic, honey and oil. Place squash on baking tray, covered in tin foil for 20 minutes until squash is almost completely soft.

 

 

PART 2: REST OF SALAD

While the squash is roasting, get cracking on the rest of the salad.

 

1 courgette, cut in half lengthways, then half again and then into chunks

1 tsp coriander seeds

1/2 tsp ground cumin/1tsp cumin seeds

50 grams of hazelnuts (almonds or others work just as well)

200 grams of cooked chickpeas/1 can, washed and drained

200 grams of fresh spinach, washed and chopped roughly

100 grams of fresh rocket, washed and chopped roughly

 

Method:

In a bowl, mix the courgette, coriander, cumin, hazelnuts and chickpeas together, toss well. Once squash has had its 20 minutes in the oven, remove the tin foil and add your chickpea mix. Toss around in the tray and put in oven for 15 minutes to toast everything else. Once the time is up, tip all the tray ingredients, including all that lovely melted coconut oil and honey into a bowl with the spinach and rocket and toss gently. Add a squeeze of half lemon, serve and enjoy all those lovely colours and flavours!

 

 

 

All images and text copyright of Grace Brady @ busylittlefoodie