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.
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.
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.
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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