Winter is a tough and demanding task master, dishing out all sorts of cruelty to the unsuspecting: nasty viruses, frost and zero temperatures, months spent wood gathering, chopping and storing. Forget about all those scarves and nostalgic notions- it’s just mean and nasty. But on occasion, along comes that other Winter, like a quiet and tender Scottish grandmother, offering peace and more repose, scope to explore indoor interests, an excuse to indulge in deeply nourishing foods, and a break from all the mad socialising, swilling and swimming of silly Summer. Cruel and kind. Strong but gentle. In the centre of Winter is my kitchen. Let’s take a look.

Mr T keeps a guitar in each room, just in case he finds the inclination to play. He has a few too many, but he assures me, they all have special sounds and different attributes. Sing me a country song on this still day.

It is so quiet outside, only sun has come to visit. As it drops low in the northern sky, it warms our front rooms and I curl up like a cat on a couch with a book, the kindle e-reader or a magazine, a wood fire to keep me company. Time for a cup of tea and a slice of that quince cake.

The pumpkins were harvested last week to make more room for more broad beans and garlic in the garden. They sit on the verandah in the cold, an arm’s throw away from the kitchen. They are a long-lasting source of winter comfort food.

My zucca repertoire includes:
- baking small pieces to throw into a pumpkin risotto, or combining them with caramelised onion and pasta,
- making pumpkin soup with plenty of fresh ginger,
- baked and tossed in a salad with spinach and pine nuts,
- baked in thin slices, with Tamari sauce and sesame seeds
- I am building up to making some pumpkin and ricotta stuffed ravioli. Time to crank the pasta maker and use up the eggs. And also look forward to some pumpkin gnocchi with burnt butter sage leaves.

Lentils also star in winter. I often make a lentil version of a shepherd’s pie, spiked with mushrooms, herbs, tomato paste and the key old-fashioned ingredient, Worcestershire sauce, covered in buttery potato and kumara mash. Red lentils go into soups, especially my version of Turkish Bride soup, a meal in itself, as well as dhal, dhal with curried silverbeet, or homemade paneer, or chopped hard-boiled eggs and curry leaves in ghee. Cheap as chips and so satisfying.


The garden is in transition, but still provides the odd little surprise for the kitchen: the chilli are hanging on, one last zucchini, a handful of limes and a gorgeous radicchio growing in a path. I love the way radicchio hardens up in winter, providing that bitter contrast to rich winter foods.
Picked this morning on the first day of winter is this pile of green tomatoes that happily grew in April and May. The seasons are so strange now. Looks like it’s time to make chutney – again.

A trip to Basfoods is my idea of heaven. A Melbourne institution for super fresh nuts, spices, dried fruits, pulses, dried beans, bulk flour or anything Turkish. Below we have a bag of Manildra Bakers flour for bread making (12.5 kilo for $14.99). Bags of linseed/flax, an Omega 3 wonder food, to add to bread and porridge, or smoothies in summer (500 g for $3.99), plus almond meal, rye flour, almond flakes, and more. All essential winter ingredients.

Thanks Maureen for the link up this month. Maureen is the host of In My Kitchen. http://www.orgasmicchef.com/ Any one can contribute to this series or pop in there, via the link, for a look around world kitchens.