Colour Match

Capturing summer in the kitchen

Earlier in the spring we borrowed my dad’s tiller and took turns churning up the small strip of ground along the cottage where the sun hits hard in the afternoon. A tiller took hours off the day, bouncing through our arms and into the clay soil, grinding up thick tangles of timothy, sow thistle and vetch by the root. 

I worked fresh soil into the tilled earth then planted white, pink and crimson cosmos in a long row. Baby cosmos are just small, feathery plants; I lost track of which colour was going where. The garden is just below my sister’s bedroom window, so I also tucked a few pots of nicotiana in there too. The woman at the garden centre said they bloom at night releasing a gorgeous scent, so she always plants them under her bedroom window. I didn’t know the flower would turn out to be a long, delicate white trumpet, shouting at dusk. It’s fun to plant blind, going off the recommendations of those who know. 

I want to paint the cosmos. I want to paint the pile of green, yellow and red cherry tomatoes in the bowl on the kitchen counter. I want to colour match the green béchamel* I added to lasagna last week- the same colour as the stem of a cosmo - and swipe it across watercolour paper. Or how about the soft shade of yellow I made from blending leftover corn with cream before pouring it over steamed hodge podge? I have visions of carving out a space for art in my house, and taking the time, daily, to practice. In the meantime I keep art supplies in an old wooden tool caddy that lives behind the sofa in the living room, and paint with food.

I have the feeling that Annie Herron wouldn’t let a forgotten tool caddy hold her back from creating. Annie is an Australian artist and together with her daughter, cook and food writer Sophie Hansen, they’ve created a cookbook filled with art prompts and recipes. The title, Around the Kitchen Table, is perfect. The kitchen table is where I end up gathering, eating and making art anyway. 

The book arrived in the mail as I was leaving for the cottage. I flipped through quickly, eagerly, while I brought bags to the car, trying to soak up their vibrant wisdom with my body tilted under the weight of the bags. But then my phone rang, the cat got out, and I forgot it on the kitchen table. 

I’ve been following Sophie’s work for a long time, but met her in real life in 2018, when my mother and I were travelling together in Australia. Sophie hosted us at Annie’s home in Sydney one night. We sat by the fire in a room with walls covered in art, throw pillows on deep sofas and colourful carpets underfoot. We ate spicy olives and sharp cheese, sipped red wine and talked like there wasn’t a world between us. I wanted to pack that energy into my suitcase and take it home. 

So here I am at the cottage, spooning hummus onto a plate and covering it with sliced cherry tomatoes tossed in chilli crisp, the way Sophie does. I’m taking pictures of the cosmos to paint when I’m back home. I want to hold on to the last of these summer days, in every medium possible.  

PS- I wrote the story behind the cosmo garden, this time last year, over here. Take a look, if only for the snow crab pasta recipe ;)

PPS - *Herby Green Béchamel is the zaniest way to squeeze in greens and add flavour to lasagna layers. This recipe makes about 2 cups / 500 ml of sauce.

To make green béchamel, melt 4 tablespoons of butter in a large saucepan.  Add  4 tablespoons of flour and cook, stirring quickly, until the mixture is the ‘consistency of toothpaste’ as my Scottish cooking instructor at college used to say. In a separate saucepan heat 2 1/2 cups (just under 600ml) milk then slowly add it to the flour mixture, whisking all the while. Bring mixture to a gentle bowl, still whisking. Remove from heat when it’s thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. Add a big pinch of salt and pepper to taste. At this point I add a few big handfuls of greens - spinach, parsley,  basil, chives or a mix of everything - and stir until greens are wilted. Transfer mixture to a blender and with the top slightly ajar to allow steam to escape, blend on high until sauce is smooth.