Apples and honey on Rosh Hashanah, Jewish New Year, symbolise the hope for a good and sweet year ahead.

On Rosh Hashanah it is inscribed,
How many will pass and how many are born,
Who shall live and who shall die..
Who shall rest and who shall wander..

(Unetaneh Tokef)

 

As you can probably tell from this ancient verse, the Jewish version of New Year ain’t some breezy rendition of Auld Lang Syne, cheeky kiss at midnight, and fleeting resolution to give up chocolate. No, Rosh Hashanah is a very different kettle of (gefilte) fish.

In fact, it’s Judaism’s Day of Judgment no less – or at least its annual version – when one’s deeds are scrutinised, divine judgement is meted out, and our fates become sealed for the year ahead.

It’s basically one’s annual appraisal with God, with all the same apologies and promises, but without the chocolate bourbons. View Post

Foraging in London, where you can come across a whole host of various edible leaves, including cow parsley.

“Please tell us a story!” cried the littlest rabbit.

“Yes, a story! A story!..” chimed the others in unison.

Mother Rabbit surveyed her litter of kittens, as they danced and leapt. She was feeling tired, and the sun was now dipping low over the meadow, its rays turning the world a uniform gold.

She paused for a moment, and smiled at their keen expectant eyes. She nodded, and the crowd burst into ecstatic squeals. And so she began. View Post

Review of Brat restaurant London, where the kitchen opens out to the dining space.

Take a kitchen. Strip it back to its basic elements. What have you got? A space with a source of heat and water, and somewhere cool and dry for storage. But, in truth, a kitchen has always been much more than that.

Throughout the ages, kitchens have also been places where people come together, cook together, work together, eat together, and keep warm. As such, they’re living breathing spaces: full of energy, purpose, and community.

The history of the kitchen is as old as that of humankind itself – Neanderthals gathering together on the rugged steppes and grassy plains, roasting hulking slabs of meat over raging flames, the smoke billowing into a prehistoric sky.

And in this coming together, with food as the focal point, came the bonds that began to unite people, a sense of community that kept people safe and sowed the seeds of civilisation. View Post

For a London fish restaurant, look no further than Parsons and it's creamy fish pie

Ahoy me hearties, shiver me timbers and splice the mainbrace! Now’s time for a hearty sea shanty, all in honour of a new London fish joint: Parsons. And if you’re in need of some instrumental accompaniment…

 

View Post

Rochelle Canteen - where I am wowed by the simplicity of brisket, carrot and sauerkraut

A drop of water suspended on a crocus petal.

Turning over the final page of a much-loved novel.

A starry sky.

The lonely strum of a single guitar string.

Swirling clouds of milk in freshly-poured tea.

Waves rolling against a pebbly shore.

Dipping roast potatoes into gravy whilst no-one is looking.

*

Don’t worry, I’m not going to burst into song, at least not just yet. These aren’t necessarily my favourite things. No, this post is about the simple things, although I’d probably consider them my favourite things too. After all, it is often the simple things that connect with us most.

But why?

View Post