At the beginning of this year, I made a commitment to myself to say yes to a few more opportunities that came my way, and to make a few happen myself.
When life and work are busy, it’s very easy to put your head down and crack on. Then you catch up with friends at a party or at school drop-off, hear about everything they’ve been doing and can’t help feeling that you’ve become a little bit boring!
So, I booked in a few things that I’d always fancied doing but had never quite got around to. Last Friday, I finally ticked off one that had been on my list for years: a day cooking over fire at River Cottage HQ.
The course was hosted by Gill Meller, River Cottage’s former head chef and someone whose food I’ve admired from afar for a long time. Gill’s cooking is simple, seasonal and unshowy, but it’s the sort of food you immediately want to eat.
I’ve cooked many of his recipes for my own family over the years, and I’ve even shared a few of them in these journals, so the opportunity to meet and cook alongside him was a real treat.
I left the farm early on Friday morning and headed down towards Axminster. River Cottage HQ is tucked into a beautiful valley on the East Devon and West Dorset border, and the walk down from the car park was exactly as I remembered it from watching the television programmes all those years ago.
Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall and River Cottage undoubtedly helped shape my own love of food, farming and cooking. It was food that felt rooted in a place: farmhouse-style, traditional and just the sort of food I grew up eating.
We made our way to a small cooking school among the trees, just behind the farmyard. Fires were already burning and coffee was on the go. It was a pretty good way to begin a Friday morning.
Before we started cooking, Gill talked about what cooking over fire meant him and that when he lights a fire and settles in for a few hours of cooking, it quietens the noise and calms his nervous system.
That really struck a chord with me.
Modern life seems designed to keep our nervous systems on high alert. There is always another deadline, another message or another piece of sensationalised news.
Cooking over fire is the complete opposite.
A fire won’t be rushed. You need to light it, tend it and wait for it to reach the right temperature. You watch the flames, move the embers and pay attention to what is happening in front of you. There is no shortcut and nowhere else you particularly need to be.
We started with a smoked haddock and cheese omelette for breakfast. We cooked scallops in their shells with bacon and garlic butter, with sourdough to mop everything up. A hearty summer cuttlefish stew bubbled away for several hours alongside ember-roasted beetroot and a roasted plum and labneh salad.
It was simple food, cooked simply over fire, and it tasted wonderful.
When I’ve had a stressful week, or things have begun to get on top of me, losing myself in a day of cooking nearly always resets me.
There is something therapeutic about working through the small, physical tasks. Chopping, stirring, seasoning and tasting. You concentrate on what is in front of you and create something that you can see, smell and taste.
And at the end of it, you have something to place in the middle of a table for the people you care about.
Perhaps that is the most therapeutic part of all. Cooking isn’t only about escaping the noise for a while. It is also about creating a reason for people to stop, sit down and be together.
Although I would highly recommend it, you don’t need a trip to River Cottage or a roaring outdoor fire to experience it. It might be a stew slowly cooking on the hob, bread rising on the kitchen counter or something simple sizzling on the barbecue. The important thing is occasionally giving it your full attention and allowing everything else to quieten down for a bit.
Thank you to Gill and the team at River Cottage for a wonderful day, and for reminding me why I enjoy cooking so much in the first place.
Have a great week, and get cooking!