Today I made hash for lunch. I just needed to use up the potatoes and the deli meats left over from Christmas. I hadn’t thought about hash in a long time. Not so a few years back.

This restaurant seemed all about hash. Best seller at brunch and lunch. The prep was never ending. It was hash prep that resulted in me getting a bollocking for being ill. I was ill. Too ill to be in work. It was acknowledged that I was ill and still I was shouted at for cutting the chorizo too slowly. I defended myself. Of course I was working slowly I felt really ill. I was told not to answer back. Just like a child. I was a woman in my early 30s at the time. In a place of work.

“Don’t answer back”

Everyone says that kitchens are better now than they used to be and of course that is the truth. Maybe though the bad old days are not as old as I think.

The hash was delicious though. I roasted the potatoes with paprika and oregano. I fried the bacon, the salami, the chorizo until it was beautiful and crisp. The eggs were fresh, organic. Blissfully golden yolks. Just a little hot sauce. It was comforting after the cold morning. It took me no time at all to cut the chorizo.

Tired.

Monday.

Bedroom.

Bathroom.

Bus.

Food bank.

Shelves bare.

Cupboards barer.

Coffee.

Despair.

Deliveries.

Donations.

Happiness.

Boxes.

Finished.

Breathe my darling.

Breathe.

Step outside

The street,

The houses.

See the dandelions.

Smell the washing powder.

The world is still turning.

Hope.

“Pass the chimichurri” comes the cry from down the table. Over the steak, the lamb, the chicken, the sausages, past the coal baked potatoes, the roasted beetroots, the asparagus and broccoli, the salad, that were all growing less than an hour ago. The chimichurri is duly passed. Full of the food, the sunshine, the joys and maybe more importantly the beer and the wine. The table breaks into song “Chimi, chimi, chimi.” Sorry ABBA.

OK you must be thinking what is this some Game of Thrones, First Day at Hogwart’s feast? No no my dears. Even better than that. Its farm day!

The restaurant has a small farm which supplies so many of our delicious vegetables and herbs. When the sign up sheet to help out for a day went on the wall I couldn’t put up my name fast enough. As much as I love living in Bristol my soul was looking forward to getting outside the city for a while. I’ve talked about the joys of hard work in the garden before. I’ll say it again. Hard work. Its good for the soul.

Just as well. There is a lot to do.

First job weeding the asparagus bed. I love asparagus. I love that it’s roots go around 10 feet deep. I love that it takes three years to get a crop. I love that the shoots look almost alien esque as they peep through the soil. Of course I love the taste. Weeding I don’t love so much but it is a satisfying job to get done.

Satisfied with a job well done we split into teams! Team puce for life! Our teams first job. Planting corn and courgettes. We get our rakes out and get to work on the bed.

In no time at all everything is planted and looking great.

There’s nothing like a bit of team work.

Next up is clearing out the old broccoli bed. The sun is shining down beautifully. It’s thirsty work this. What time is it though? Oh yes I make that beer o clock.

Our thirst suitably slaked it’s back to work. Next up. Washing the Polytunnel.

A mop is fashioned out of some old bedsheets and rope. It takes four of us to sling it over the top of the polytunnel. One person to man the hose. And it’s “heave” “ho” “heave” “ho” until another job is ticked off the list.

There’s a great buzz all over the farm. Other teams are strimming, planting peas and cutting bean poles. My next job is weeding and tying up the tomatoes. Excellent. There is nothing quite like the smell of tomato plants in a polytunnel. It’s beyond description its so unique. I inhale deeply. Happy and content.

The days work is coming to a close now. Happy and tired workers all around. The beers are cool. The vegetables are gathered. Soon we feast!

First though it’s time for the sunflower competition.

I fancy Gerald’s chances.

I hearby declare farm day to be the most fun day!

How long until the next one?

I’ve been volunteering for The Matthew Tree Project since the beginning of the year. It’s been incredibly rewarding plus I’ve met some amazing people along the way.

The Matthew Tree Project is a wonderful charity which strives to “empower and support people who have fallen into crisis, for whatever reason, to rebuild their lives and create a better, healthier, happier future.

My role as a volunteer is a food parcel packer. The charity states “The simple and compassionate act of giving people food on a weekly basis has created a safe and positive environment to build relationships and gain an understanding of each person’s circumstances.” I couldn’t agree more.

My usual volunteering day is Monday. This is a typical day.

I usually arrive at the warehouse at 9:30. Time to find out what the day will bring.

But first.

Coffee.

Coffee in hand and the day is already looking nice and busy. Drivers are loading up ready to take the parcels out into the community. More are on the way with fresh donations.

The happy, bustling scene is very capably supervised by the lovely F. F asks me to work the ambient section today as A is working on vegetables. Every service user gets a vegetable box and an ambient parcel as well as bread and meat.

I cheerfully take up my ambient station. Just call me the baked bean queen.

The first thing is to check over the list. Just like in the kitchen the list is the law. It contains all the information I need, names, addresses, number of adults and children, pets and any special requests.

So list consulted. And all my labels cut out its time to get to work. I get stuck into packing up my boxes.

10 am and I’ve got into a good rhythm. Label. Pack. Weigh. ( All the food is weighed on the way in and out). Record.Stack. I do three or four boxes at a time.

10:30 A arrives and takes up the vegetable station. F informs him we have plenty of lettuce and swede this week.

There is a lot of ebb and flow in the donations we receive. My ambient station is looking sadly a little bit empty today. I do the best I can with what I’ve got. I potter on nicely.

11am a van outside. Hooray, it’s the supermarket donations. Getting new donations is always exciting. You never know what’s coming in!

Well there are always Cheese and Onion flavour Discos. Evidently someone doesn’t like them as we receive a steady supply.

As well as the Discos there are tins of soup, rice pudding and custard. Excellent. Much needed. Jars of pasta sauce. Thank you so much. I just gave out the last one. Some Easter eggs. Always nice to give the kids some treats.

After being weighed all the new donations need to be date checked and put away. F makes a start on this whilst I finish packing the boxes.

12 midday. Boxes all packed. Phew there were a fair few today. Luckily I could give pretty much everyone at least some of what they asked for.F and I finish checking and putting away the new donations.

12:30 All done! A satisfying morning’s work as always. I’m looking forward to next week but now it’s lunch time. Monday lunch is the best one of the week!

Most chefs will have a particular favourite play list for when they are at work. It can be a fascinating insight into the culture of a kitchen.

Me I don’t have one. It’s not that I’m not interested in music. Quite the opposite in fact. I love music. All kinds.

L puts on Blondie you bet I’m hitting One Way or Another word for word. C likes a bit of Elvis. I’ll get my blue suede shoes.

T puts on Baby Shark maybe a few too many times during the day but hey. I still know all the words.

At the end of the night V likes a bit of energy. Loud music is the way! Enter System of a (Close) Down. Boom there’s my teenage years. There in the kitchen.

I love particularly the uniquely human experiences that music allows us. Music can express emotion. Music can provoke emotion. Music can take us back in time. It can push us forward.

It sparks conversations. Encourages friendly debates. We laugh as we sing the wrong words in the silliest voices. It connects us. It bonds us. In a job where the team is everything. Music can hold us together.

Yesterday The Monkees, I’m a believer came on at work. Me and V were dancing in the KP room.

Dancing is my favourite. Dancing for me is instant happiness.

You know what they say.

Happy chefs make tasty food.

“A Saturday off!” cries my brain with joyous abandon. “What can we do with this?”

In hospitality a Saturday off is often a rare beast. Lesser spotted one might say. It is all too important then to pack as much in as you can.

Today for me and T was all about cinema, food and shopping.

The Lego shop I have always found to be a beacon of wholesome joy on an otherwise cynical high street.

I just love that there is a Lego set for everyone.

My brain likes building lego. It gives it a sense of peace for a time.

This is Mr Fluffington. He will be my new sheep.

This is a poem for my mother and my grandfather.

So.

You can have a thousand pounds for Christmas Bex.

You must promise me one thing.

That you buy the patent Docs.

You always wanted.

Armour.

You see.

If I must stomp the city.

I’d better have the boots to do it in.

Grampy.

Used to buy the boots.

Mammy does it now.

The only daughter.

Of an only son.

Love.

The city.

The best thing about London.

Said Grampy.

Is leaving.

Bristol.

I don’t know her best thing.

It’s not leaving though.

I’m staying.

At least for a while.

My boots.

They do stomp.

To work.

On the floor as I cheer the poets.

They try to stomp.

On the cold.

At the bus stop.

He’s there.

He holds me.

He always will.

I lean in and I steal his warmth.

So selfish.

When in my boots.

Is the love.

The warmth.

Of generations.

At the restaurant we’re very lucky we get a free drink after work on Fridays and Saturdays. It’s a lovely perk of course.

“We asked 100 people to name something chefs like. You said beer. Our survey said…”

Ding Ding Top Answer.

Yes most chefs are partial to a drop of beer.

But it isn’t just that it’s free beer. An after shift drink is so much more than that.

I’ve spoken before about how tough a weekend service can be. Bodies get exhausted. Brains get foggy. Sometimes tempers fray.

But when you reach the end of the night you all clink glasses. You say cheers. Everyone is equal now. We’re friends, compadres, amigos.

The night was tough but the team survived.

It makes that first sip all the more refreshing.

Cheers team!

Bluebells in Bedminster

What’s she like?

They ask me.

This lady.

She’s in your life now.

Well, I reply.

She’s no lady really.

Little bit rough.

Bit ragged.

She’s not much to look at usually.

But she’s very kind hearted.

And when she wears her bluebells.

She shines as bright as anyone.

Inspired by Bedminster and Sonnet 130.

Have been a regular feature of my life. You see growing up we always had a dog. When I was very small Nanny and Grampy still had Bonnie dog. When I was a bit bigger Mammy brought Twix dog home that night and completed our family. Twix dog was the best boy!

Dogs love walks. I’m human (honest) but if I had to say if I was more cat or dog then woof woof. I love walks too.

Especially on a Sunday. There’s something that is just so wholesome about a Sunday walk. When I was small the Sunday walk was always after lunch. I prefer to go before lunch these days.

T and I have been feeling a bit sluggish after the winter. For the sake of our mental and physical wellbeing Sunday walks are back on the agenda.

Our favourite spot is Ashton Court Estate.

We went today.

It was nice to be out for an hour!

So it is a little ironic that as I write this piece about springtime I am sat outside Left Handed Giant Brewpub in a jumper and my parka shivering.

Yes spring seems a little bit shy this year. Winter has been trying to bully his way back in but it is inevitable that spring must triumph in the end.

The triumph of spring is heralded by the blossoms. I have loved tree blossoms since I was a little girl. I remember being taken to the park to admire the cherry blossoms.

Even then, as young as I was, they brought me a tremendous sense of optimism. Its like the world is being renewed.

It might still be cold but the sun is still shining. The sky is blue.

The days are longer. The mornings are lighter.

The world is fresh and new.

Let’s give spring some encouragement!

She’s winning!