I like to think of myself as a pretty laid back person and gardener. At least that's the delusion I live under. However, some travesties require reporting, especially crimes against vegetables.
How so you might ask? Well, I'll tell you. I'm not a vegetarian, I was vegetarian in my 'youth'. I lasted 12 years, then I absentmindly married a farmer.
I first tasted local lamb when marooned on the tiny island of Oronsay (by Colonsay), after a day of dosing 500 sheep, (farmers wives lead very glamourous lives dont' you know).
So, when offered tea at 10pm, after a 12 hour day on the farm, with only a packet of crisps as an appetiser, a leg of local lamb was plonked on the table. With only a pinch of carrots and a tiny tattie offering as a side dish (beautifully cooked I might add), it appeared my (ex) husband had forgotten to mention my vegetarian tendencies. Ravenous, I tried the meat, never in my life had meat tasted so good, ok I was half starved, delirious, heady from the smell of the 'fank', but it was probably the first time in my life, I tasted 'real' meat.
Never looked back since. I love eating meat, fish and poultry, whenever possible we buy local and 'happy' meat. Tastes better, no brainier really, for us anyway. We probably eat less, due to cost, but I'd rather have taste than quantity. Anyway, as always, I digress, back to travesties against vegetables.
Why, when someone nurtures and grows a fine sweet carrot, or a gorgeously tight broccoli spear, nurtures a noble tattie, why oh why do the serve them up with an amazing meal, mushy? Boiled to within an inch of their short lives. That IS a travesty and a serious crime against vegetable kind.
I hope to blazes, my poor departed, squishy side dish, was not locally grown. Imagine the struggle it's had in the Orkney climate, to grow and flourish, only to be robbed of its glory by too long boiling in salted water.
There should be vegetable police, protecting their honour. I might even sign up.
No vegetable should suffer at the hands of a negligent cook.