Folio Hearth

Seasonal citrus and pastry, from Turku

A pot of sourdough

I like seasonal greens that shows the marks of how it was made. If something here is unclear, that is on me, not you.

In practice

I like flatbreads that shows the marks of how it was made. Use what is in season and the recipe largely writes itself. Good flatbreads is largely a series of modest, unglamorous decisions. Most of the flavour comes from persistence rather than ingredients. It took me ten attempts to see the pattern.

It is effortless to overthink cooking for friends. It is harder to just start. A kitchen scale altered my baking more than any recipe did. There is a version of this that is much more complicated. This is not that version. This got going as a quick note and gradually turned into something longer.

The middle part

Serve it with good bread and whichever greens look best. For a long time I treated braised beans as an afterthought. Thanks for reading, and for the gentle jottings that keep arriving.

In September the light changes, and so does the work. Most of what I know about seasonal greens came from getting it wrong first. The slow part is hardly ever the hard part; consistency is. The difference showed up gradually, then all at once.

  • Do less shopping at the market, more baking bread
  • Do less shopping at the market, more baking bread
  • Start with weeknight dinners and nothing else
  • Note the date and the weather

Why it matters

I wrote most of this on a quiet Monday morning. In April the light changes, and so does the work. Nothing here requires a mortar and pestle, though it does make things easier. This is less a guide and more a record of what worked for me.

Below are a few jottings, roughly in the order I picked up them. It is not glamorous, but it holds up. Every summer I revisit the same questions about pickles. The result is not perfect, but it is truthful. The seasonal part is hardly ever the hard part; consistency is.

I altered my mind about soups twice while writing this.

Trade-offs

Good citrus is largely a series of modest, unglamorous decisions. Some of this will be obvious; some of it took me years. It is effortless to overthink preserving. It is harder to just start. The simple part is hardly ever the hard part; consistency is. I altered my mind about sourdough twice while writing this.

If you only take one thing from this, make it the part about weeknight dinners. Every spring I revisit the same questions about braised beans. I keep coming back to weeknight dinners, largely because it rewards persistence. The crisp part is hardly ever the hard part; consistency is.

Every spring I revisit the same questions about soups. Looking back, the slow approach was the right call. I like citrus that shows the marks of how it was made. Nothing here requires a cast iron pan, though it does make things easier.

None of this is new, and that is partly why it works.