Veg Boxes, and the other things you can sneak into them when the husband isn't looking

I've been deliberating about getting a veg box for a while now.  We've been receiving fliers through the door from a number of companies, offering varying combinations of organic and/or local produce, with varying degrees of commitment to those ideals and I have been sorely tempted.  I always hesitated before, wondering about whether we actually eat enough veg to justify it.  But now, we have a Baby Bird eager to try new foods, and I'm home with the time and inclination to get her started on the right foot with food, and to improve the way Hubbo and I eat.  We also don't really go out very much, so it is nice to take a little more time with dinner every now and then, turning an evening meal into a date, or making Sunday lunch feel like a proper family occasion.  That and the fact that it feels as if I have spent the last couple of months doing nothing but buying veg every day, and even in today's food-obsessed world, with a couple of decent supermarkets within walking distance and a farmer's market nearby, it can be tricky getting variety in the organic veg that is readily available.  We are all starting to get a little sick of broccoli and sweet potatoes.

So, I finally took the plunge, ordering a medium fruit and veg box from Abel & Cole.  I have been excitedly awaiting its arrival for almost a week as, typically, I did this on a Wednesday and they deliver in our area on a Tuesday.  Still, good things come to those who wait, and this morning, the very lovely Garth arrived with my very first veg box:

This week's offerings were: bananas, kiwi fruit and apples; mushrooms, tomatoes, onions, carrots, potatoes, beetroot and rainbow chard.  Just looking in the box made me feel hungry.

Inspired by all this lovely produce, and since Baby Bird has decided to take a nice long nap, I am pottering around the kitchen, making soup.  It all feels rather appropriate, as the rain is lashing down outside and it seems very clear that, much as I long for an Indian Summer, autumn is most definitely already upon us.  So, bubbling away while I type are two big pots: one, tomato (top); the other, carrot and ginger (bottom). 

Neither qualifies for Experimental Thursday status as I have been making them (or variations on their themes) for years.  In fact, the tomato soup is based on a recipe that I picked up 15 years ago from the Scottish grandma of a old boyfriend, and I am quite sure she had been making it for a good 40 years before I knew about it!  But, just because it is old and familiar, doesn't mean it isn't delicious and the kitchen smells fantastic right now.  The flavours in the soups will be bright and clear, made with lovely fresh organic veggies and herbs from my garden, and I am already looking forward to lunch (although how I will choose which one to have, I am not quite sure).

The thought of filling up the freezer with pots of leftovers, just waiting for more rainy day lunches is also hugely comforting.  It takes me back to this time last year, when we were awaiting Baby Bird's arrival and I insisted I wasn't nesting.  I hadn't had the (I thought obligatory) urge to clean the bathroom with a toothbrush or to tidy every cupboard in the house.  What was wrong with me?  Where was my maternal instinct?  Was I broken?  I blurted all these fears out loud to my husband one evening while fixing cheese on toast for dinner.  You see?  Clearly I was broken - I couldn't even be bothered to make us a proper meal?  How on earth would I feed a baby?  They would be eating turkey twizzlers before they were one!  Hubby took the knife I was enthusiastically waving around while saying all this, gently led me to the freezer, opened the door and pointed out that I had filled it with enough neatly labelled pots of soup, casseroles, pasta sauce and shepherd's pie to feed us for a month, and had baked more cheesy scones than we could possibly know what to do with.  I may not have a tidy nest, but those who visit it will always have full tummies...

So what is on the menu for Experimental Thursday?

While ordering my veg box, I had a browse around the other things Abel & Cole had to offer.  Meat, dairy produce, bread.  All looking delicious.  And then the page which got me really excited: fish and seafood.  I may not eat meat, but I do enjoy fish (that is why I no longer refer to myself as a vegetarian, although I was a proper one for 7 years).  There at the top of the page, labelled "Special" was something that caught my eye and got me very excited: scallops.

I adore scallops.  If they are on the menu when I go out, I am virtually incapable of refusing them.  I fully expect heaven to feature scallops for dinner every night.  There is something about those wonderful, round nuggets, so soft and tender on the outside, but with a hint of firmness in the centre that literally makes my knees go weak and my heart soar.  It shouldn't be possible for food to make a person feel like this, but scallops do for me.  Yet I have never cooked them.  They sit in that category of "posh restaurant foods" that only real chefs should attempt.  They are too expensive to justify buying on anything other than a special occasion, and cooking something new is too risky a proposition for a special occasion.  What if they burnt?

But there they were, on special offer.  Still expensive, but not prohibitively so, and they were calling to me.  Begging, in fact.  My mouse hovered over the "Buy" button.  I couldn't, could I?  I shouldn't... I did.

And now they are sat in my fridge, plump and expectant, and I am sat at my kitchen table, hopefully a little less plump, but equally expectant, awaiting the return of my husband so that we can have scallops for supper on Experimental Thursday...