This morning my house's perfume is hyacinth with a base note of devilled kidney. I like both of these smells - though together they are a little challenging - as they remind me that I am still evolving.
I used to eschew cut flowers, on the basis that they were produced in faraway countries under appalling conditions then flown across the world to become short-lived, shallow gestures of affection, purchased on petrol station forecourts by men who thought that was what women wanted. This is not who I am, I used to say. Do not buy me flowers.
But what I meant was, do not buy me *those* flowers. It turns out I actually LOVE flowers, and if I had the money I would have them in the house always. I would buy them from British farms or other sustainable places and in summer I would grow my own*. And I got a huge bunch of spring flowers for my birthday and they are bringing me joy.
There were also many years - several decades even - when I would not have countenanced a kidney. I have already covered my journey from teenage vegetarianism to middle-aged omnivory at some length. And I have more to say, including the extent to which I see it as a one-way thing - but for now, I scan the horizons for organic lamb's kidneys (harder to find than they should be) and I buy them when I see them. I'm not a nose to tail evangelist - I find all that marrow sucking a bit macho, if I'm honest - but I do have a weakness for offal that runs pretty deep, and there's something very satisfying about getting so much eating pleasure from something that is generally seen as a long way from the main event. It's all relative, I know, but in the current scheme of things I am cool with kidneys.
joella
* I am trying that for the first time this year.
