Summer in Sicily

 I am waking each morning wanting to be back, to open the door of our little farm house and to breathe in the fragrance of figs, green, earth and distant sea, to say good morning the skinny cats mewing at my feet for sweet milk from the cereal bowls. I want to be thinking about what to wear to the beach, where I left the sunscreen, how long we have until it gets too hot to bear, to wake and be in Sicily again.

Two weeks we've been back and I am mourning, my moment in the sun was all too short and Sicily spun some magic on me; her promise of an elemental life, made steady by the ocean, kept true by the rugged rocks, glowing fine with fresh fruit straight from the trees.

Old men still buy their picking ladders from the back of a truck on a dusty Sunday road, fine wine is grown then sold in plastic bottles from great vats in tiny shops that offer you a glass with your tuna and artichoke panini, a man selling onions the size of melons sleeps in a hammock hung between lamp-posts in the mid-day heat, caramel-skinned gods and goddesses of all sizes and ages flaunt their bodies with grace and ease, sipping espresso at the beach cafe.

We stayed on an organic farm, our hosts, Fabio and Annarella, welcomed us into their lives with immediate and natural abandon and we spent many evenings under the stars with them and their friends and family eating pasta and drinking wine then limonchello, the children playing happily outside as cicadas and Euro pop from the kitchen radio soundtracked our conversations.

Our Sicilian friends were philosophical about their lives, hoping to join young idealists like themselves together with an intricate and ever-expanding bridge of land-care, organic farming, intimate agriturismo, musical happenings, pop-up restaurants in mamma's kitchens and modern art. I was in awe of their energy and their motivations seemed less fuelled by ego than an authentic longing to partake in the unique opportunities that economic and spiritual realities offer them.

Cooking with food that has been ripened under the sun, picked and sold within days and without packaging and micro-managed marketing was refreshing. I couldn't get enough of my small blue-tiled farm kitchen, getting herbs, lemons and figs fresh from the garden, splashing Fabio's incredible olive oil on everything. Even Lidl in Sicily was a revelation - chunks of their smoky panchetta made their way into my pastas, they sold increadibly cheap but good wine, fresh raviolis and fat wedges of Grana Padano, the fruit and vegetables were restricted to seasonal and local supply, and, heaven! Italian tuna in olive oil sat beside saffron and tapenades. And that was the budget supermarket.

Here's some snaps and a recipe, that quite frankly should only be produced on Fabio's farm with figs from his tree and oil from his olives after a day at the beach with some Avola red to hand, but failing that, make sure the figs are ripe and soft and your oil is the best quality you can afford.

Prosciutto con melone  - sweet melon sits beside soft salty ham, perfect with chilled wine in a nutella jar

Annarella's salad with cherry tomatoes, fine sliced garlic, roast red peppers, basil and olives - dress with olive oil and salt

Fig, rocket and Grana salad
(Cooking for Italians is a bit daunting, like trying on swimwear with Giselle, but Fabio's mamma coo-ed appreciatively at this salad I made one night. It was a gratifying moment.)

A few handfuls of rocket
3 figs, sliced
shavings of grana padano
fabulous olive oil, white balsamic and salt to dress

that's it.

Sicily and soup in bed

Last week Gareth was sick and off from work and I didn't have much on apart from a few nights at the restaurant. We spent the entire below-freezing week in bed, propped up on three pillows each, drinking coffee then chai, Google street-viewing our way around Sicily. We are going in July for two weeks - although I feel now like I've already been. Gareth would point the little man down a street and just zoom on down - the baroque town of Noto is all alley-ways and the odd old couple on a bench taking a rest, they have large municipal bins and it' seems rather quiet in winter. Ortigia is again the high density alleys of two-story houses, some with flowers on the balcony, and weaving about you eventually pop out at the sea where again large municipal bins gather as the sky soars out all wispy clouds and blue.

I could easily eat pasta three nights a week, with risotto on the fourth, but Gareth decided this same week that he had had enough of pasta and scrunched his nose at all my usual dinner suggestions. All he wanted was soup. Seeing as he had a cold I thought ginger would be a good place to start, so, this is what we had (in bed) one day, and Gareth liked it so much he made it for himself the next night when I was at work. I do think using a good quality vegetable bouillon is important if you are relying on it to flavour and season soups, I like Marigold organic Swiss vegetable bouillon powder.

Spiced red lentil, yellow pepper and carrot soup

2 tabs olive oil
1 brown onion finely diced
1 yellow or orange pepper diced
1 stick of celery finely diced
1 inch piece of ginger grated
2 cloves of garlic crushed
2 teaspoons of Chana masala spice mix
3 medium carrots peeled and roughly chopped
1 cup of red lentils, washed and rinsed
2 - 3 teaspoons Marigold organic vegetable bouillon
3 cups water

Method:

In a large heavy-bottomed saucepan cook the onion, celery and pepper in the oil on a medium to low heat until softened and the onion is translucent. Add the ginger, garlic and Chana spices and cook for another few minutes, stirring frequently being careful not to burn the garlic. Add the carrots and lentils, stir and then add the bouillon and water. Turn the heat up a bit and let the soup reach a gentle boil for a bout 5 minutes to soften the carrots, then turn it down and simmer until the carrots are cooked and the lentils have yielded. If it's looking too thick, just add some more water. Transfer the soup into a blender, or with a stick blender, pulse to your desired texture - I like a few lumpy bits.