Foodie Fridays: growing in the far north

It gives us a lot of happiness to watch our plants grow. The windowsill garden is lush now. I’m really surprised how fast everything came up – rocket, mustard, dill, coriander, and chives within days. The parsley hung about and took a week at least; still far quicker than I thought! Then again, the days are getting longer than I’ve ever experienced before. The sun is up around 4 and sets at about 10.30, with light still in the sky a while longer. Our plants are on our bedroom indoor windowsill, between the window and the curtain so they soak up all that light. They’re also advantageously placed over a radiator. In the first week of their little lives it was snowing and cold outside, we had the window open to get air into the room and I feared for them. But with some radiator heat and the overall warmth of our flat (permanently toasty) they did fine.

2017-05-12-06.40.11-1.jpg.jpgAt first they all seemed quite leggy but they don’t look so bad now, maybe as we’ve had some actual sun lately. We are yet to eat them: I think this weekend I will start snipping the rocket. All this grew in three weeks. The basil and tomato we bought as plants, as I thought we wouldn’t be able to grow from seed and get them to fruit before winter sets in, given that we started this tiny plot at the end of April.

This is about food, yet these plants are worth so much more than just their nutritional value. In a city where the trees are straining to open their buds, still, in mid-May: I can see green leaves soon as I wake up. When I stand over them the basil releases its scent first, reminding me of warmth. Having something to look after is a balm for the soul too, telling me in small but profound ways, that my actions matter. The water I give them is gratefully received. I turn the pots sporadically so they grow straighter and stronger. I will learn to care for myself the way I care for others.

2017-05-01-07.00.31-1.jpg.jpgI love the way the chive seeds sprout, sending up one tall limb that holds its own seed aloft; look what I came from. We have so many of each plant that we can conduct experiments, which was half the purpose of growing things here, to learn. Some chives might make it outdoors where our landlady has, to my delight, given over a couple metres squared growing space to us. It’s tucked around the corner so I hadn’t seen it. There’s even two compost bays! I was so gleeful to find out. So, this weekend I hope to have a look at the patch, do some weeding and get things going.

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Japanese giant mustard

When you’re staring at empty pots and full seed packets, when the garden is an idea not a touchable reality, it is so hard to imagine that anything really, truly, grows. And yet, it does. That is a thought I need to take to heart, for the times I fall into a gloom and can’t see past it. Day always follows night. Small seeds turn into plants with fruit and flowers to seeds again. I know this; I lose it, find it, lose it but I know it deep down. I will grow to know it always, I hope.

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Settling

The last seven days has been so busy, my feet ache and I’m just about hanging on, but enjoying the ride. Here follows the week in brief:

Last Thursday was ‘Sumardagurinn fyrsti’, the offical first day of summer here in Iceland. It was snowing. Then the snow cleared and the sun came out. This happened approx every ten minutes throughout the day. Johann had the day off work and we made an expedition to Hveragerði, a village about 45 mins out of the city, where there’s a horticultural school. There was an open day, so we could wander round the glasshouses and buy plants raised organically there. One glasshouse contained Iceland’s largest (and now only, I believe) banana plantation. Yes, really! Warmed by geothermal heat, we walked past steaming pipes running from the ground outside. Indoors I was so excited to see the bananas actually fruiting, oranges hanging from trees, and tropical flowers, all under the shadow of a snowy mountain. I feel like a child at Disneyland going to gardens these days. Always going wow, wow, WOW! 

We were inspired and on our way home stopped at a garden centre, where we bought seeds, soil, and seed trays to start our own windowsill garden. Watching the seeds sprouting and put down roots helps me grow my own roots here. To grow something in a place is to commit to it. And we are so lucky to be watching this game of nature already, the rocket sprouted in 48 hours, now 6 days on we have chives, dill, and mustard too. So exciting. 

At the weekend I attended a course in Nonviolent Communication run by Jack Lehmann. You could also call it empathetic, or compassionate, communication. In brief it’s about learning a way of talking and listening that promotes harmony… In which we learn how to express our feelings and needs, and listen to other people’s feelings and needs, in a way that avoid conflict and allows them to be met. I couldn’t afford the fee and so bartered my skills as an illustrator to record the training visually, whilst also being a participant. It was exhausting. Illuminating. Emotional. Affecting. Funny. I’m going to take some time to process it and will hopefully share more details here soon. My drawings are currently with the course leader, I was gutted to get a migraine on the afternoon of the last day so I left them with him in a hurry. I’ll work on them when I get ’em back. 
So that happened…then I started my new job on Monday! I’m working in the kitchen at Reykjavik Roasters, which is a super nice cafe here that’s very serious about coffee. So far I’ve been learning the ropes (and the recipes) from the guy who’s running it currently before he leaves on Friday. We’ve been toasting granola, making seedy crackers, pesto, fresh almond milk and coconut milk and other delicious things. I’m really enjoying working with food all day and it’s going to be a challenge next week with no-one to tell me what to do, but I’ll learn a lot! Everyone is really friendly and I feel like I’m really settling down in this city now I have a workplace and regular faces to chat to. Also, it’s the best place to learn about coffee. So serious. To a decimal point serious. And we also planted some chive seeds at the end of the day today so soon I’ll be able to raise plants at work too, hurrah!

Still I struggle with the discipline of doing yoga and meditation. Still I know what helps and I don’t do it as often as I should! Tonight I’ll try and practice patience and self-compassion for my mistakes. The perfectionist in me wants this post to say more, for me to delve deeper and try to express the settling feeling of this at last becoming home, but I’m tired and reaching my limit. There’s always next time. I’ll be pleased I even wrote at all. 

I walk home down a hill with a view to Mount Esja, and though the foreground is taken up by a stack of humdrum office buildings and traffic, today I smiled and saw the beauty and the strangeness. Why here? Why now? How did I get here, working in a kitchen in Iceland, I who grew up in England thinking only of making words and pictures, scared of new places, scared of new food? Funny how a dream shifts, percolates* through and settles in the margins. As I grow older it becomes less important to me to forge a primary career as an artist. I find having another occupation is fertile ground for making art, telling stories. I was happy and surprised, once I wavered from the path of studying, practicing, teaching art to find other things I love: food and gardening. Things that fulfil me too. So I smile at the mountain and feel thankful for having got where I am today, standing at a busy crossroads waiting for the clickety-clack of the traffic lights to change and signal I can move forward once again.
 

*Coffee on the brain, clearly