Into the Neverlands

I come from a country where agriculture has been one of the main industries for quite a while (too long a while in my opinion - no wonder the Estonians are taking the world by storm - sugar beet and cabbage had their requiem performed to them a while a go and the midget of the Northern East is aiming to be one of the most technologically advanced countries in the world, quite successfully we should note). Anything to do with vegetables can hardly surprise me. I've done it all: picking mushrooms in the deepest woods, simmering a giant pot with raspberries and sugar in order to make a few jars of homemade jam from the berries you've just brought from the forest, helping dad to grate 15 kilos of cabbage to produce homemade saukerkraut, drinking birch sap , just name it. Wicked pagan rights, you might say? So be it. In my modest opinion, the nature-culture bond we have (especially in the suburban areas of my country and the bond we are unfortunately loosing) is one of the quintessential features inherent in our suburbian character. After all, ours was the last bastion of paganism to surrender to the Holy Roman Empire. Just about in the middle of the second Christian millennium that is - 1387.

Arriving here from Ireland - post-agricultural-turned-the-haven-of-high-companies-island - was a pleasant change in terms of the variety of food available. Vegetables in the Emerald Island? Think the Irish flag. Green for broccoli, white for cauliflower, orange for carrots (accompanied by a decent handful of potatoes of course).

Another trip to the local supermarket and I have to take my hat off for the inventiveness in the Neverlands. Beetroot with pears and cinnamon! Lekker!

Bookmark this post: