london garden harvest

Oh, we are still in London! Our Parisian trip is delayed a day. So we took the opportunity to warm up our very chilly old terraced house with some cooking, using some of our little garden harvest.
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My tall girl went out front and plucked the golden cherries and the large rosy tomatoes, and I went out back and gathered some thyme and oregano. And detached an aggressive pumpkin from the raspberries it had so rudely climbed; rudely but productively, as a little pumpkin was hanging amongst the berries! What was I doing? Oh yes. Our garlic cured all summer in the house, and I finally took a bulb of it.
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Softneck garlic was our best and easiest crop, the cloves planted last October, happily ignored, dug up in July, ignored some more. I do have ambitions of braiding it. I chopped all of these, and set them to roast long and low with sea salt and olive oil, as instructed on our beloved River Cottage.
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The resulting heaven was put through our new mouli, the very first go, I adore it! More about that soon. We had the sauce with leftover pork and rice, for we were all too tired after a barn dance in the countryside to do anything else.
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