It’s like this. I set myself the goal of trying to rear and grow as much of my own food as possible. And I failed, particularly during the early months in the garden, and over the hungry part at the end of winter when nothing grows. I still wonder about my credibility as someone trying to eat food I’ve grown, or grown by someone I know. I shop for lots of things locally that I can’t grow myself, including at either of the two supermarkets in Cygnet.

So this is what I’ve eaten in the last week.

Thursday
Pasta with kale from the garden. I learnt that kale, unlike spinach or broccoli or silverbeet, isn’t that good with pasta unless it’s really young leaves that you choose. The pasta, an excellent one, is from Italy.

For dinner it’s a tortilla of home grown pink eyes with sage and lettuce from the garden.

Friday
As usual breakfast is made from Elgaar organic oats, walnuts from mate Jen Owens’ tree and other bits from much further afield. For dinner I braised the last of my onions with purple and yellow carrots and baby up-to-date potatoes from the garden in a little water with Penna olive oil sold by the growers at the farmer’s market. On the side was a dish of homegrown broccoli with bought chilli, garlic from the plot, and some sorrel that I thought was perennial spinach.

Saturday
At the market. A lamb wrap from a stall. Dinner of chips, nuts, beer and whisky (I went to a poker night). Threw in a ginger beer as well.

Sunday
Coffee. More coffee. Hey, I needed it. Lunch of pork dumplings of unknown origin at a very good Shanghainese restaurant called Written on Tea in Hobart. Dinner; sirloin steak. Hereford/friesian cross from the organic farm in Nichols Rivulet. Salad from George and Hillary at the market. Mustard made by my mate Ross and some of Gil’s homegrown horseradish I’d grated last season and jarred.

Monday
Pancakes with my own blueberries. Maggie’s yoghurt. Mascarpone from Elgaar dairy. Black currant syrup made from currants grown by the family of Richard Clark. Preserved greengage plums from last summer, which I picked myself. (I also put Canadian maple syrup on the table, but don’t use it.) The same farmer that sold the beef gives me a half boot load of broad beans. I freeze some – the others are blanched, double peeled and tossed with Tongola goat’s cheese from the other side of the valley. Penna olive oil and Hillary’s tomatoes. For dinner it’s snow peas from the garden of Joanne and Mike (Mike is an AFI award winning sound engineer who did the sound for the series and lives up the valley a bit), along with their cucumber, and scarlet runner beans.

Tuesday
Small potatoes, some the size of a child’s thumb, from the garden are boiled and tossed with my own bacon and its fat after frying. On the side there’s a broad bean and tomato salad. The tomatoes come, while I wit for mine to ripen, from the farmer’s market, too. Two Metre Tall Huon cider, a stunning drop.

Wednesday
Chargrilled home baked sourdough with olive oil and a salad of scarlet runner beans, broad beans, snow peas and Tongola cheese. On the side are a few slices of my own prosciutto, and some radishes from Yorktown Organics, who are based in the north of the state.

Dinner of ten-hour bacon baked beans that I had saved from the market stall, poured hot over chargrilled sourdough, and topped with a poached egg. Salad on the side; leaves from Hillary and George, broad beans from Gerard.

So there you go. Maybe it was a good week. The vegie garden is full of weeds, but there’s plenty for a small household to find to eat, or at least add to the meals. I’m not eating much meat, which is a good thing, and come the cooler months – when there’s little fruit and less leafy greens in the garden, it may mean I have to source things from much further afield.