A Cook's tour: Axminster






I booked into a cooking course at the river cottage at the End of January; I think I had imagined noodling around a cottage with Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall talking about prison yogurt. Which of course it wasn’t- they had made a cooking school in another beautiful field and I think my feelings on the day were augmented a bit by slight disappointment.

But in retrospect it was excellent. I knew I had signed up for vege skills but it wasn’t until mid afternoon that I clocked that it was also vegan and that I wasn’t missing the meat at all (the key? The Maillard reaction). 

 

Before going on the course I popped in to see my friend and her mum in nearby axminster. It was a glorious morning and I think any time I make any of the recipes that day I will recall the warmth of that morning.










____________________________________________________________



Holiness, or The Orange Carer and the Knitter 

Driving in east Devon
On a frosty morning
Empty A35 road

Shadows cast across fields
Across corners
Bare clipped hedgerows
Holding in their joy
All summer coursing through sap
Waiting to burst forth

Park by the old Catholic Church
Opposite two named cottages
Cars parked
Crusted with diamonds of ice
In the door to the warmth I entered to greet her
A friends mum
Wrapped in a thick navy dressing gown
Her soft knobbled hands turning the pages of a childrens bible
Her glasses thick and slightly crooked
Sitting at the table 
A picture of peace and concentration
Her cloth napkin had a silver napkin ring; 
An engravement celebrating her father in laws silver anniversary in 1945
Not the kind of thing anyone would daily remember
Especially when the hours are full of daily forgettings 

My friend and I sat chatting
While a carer in fluorescent orange hoodie and trackies came to dress her mum
She emerged later from the hallway
In a pink and white jumper she had knitted herself some years before
A mastery of patterned talent
The orange carer hugged her gently before leaving, planting a kiss on her cheek

The lounge was tidy and stacked
A massive cloth hanging on the wall of Gandhi; spinning
Anachronistic 
Rich red patterned carpet
Oak reading desk and chair
Chai
Slightly steaming tea
The morning sun streaming in through recovered stain glass windows into the lounge
Casting a warm light over her face





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