Mindfulness, what’s in a word?

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I’d like to find another word for mindfulness.  Not that it isn’t apt, on the contrary, being mindful in our lives can be life changing, mind blowing.  But we’re hearing the word used so much these days, a little like the hackneyed terms ‘life changing and mind blowing’,  that it can end up falling on deaf ears or meaning nothing at all to some people.

A male client on zoom yesterday rolled his eyes when I mentioned mindfulness.  “No, that whacky stuff’s not for me,” he said.
There’s not much whacky about it; pretty straight forward in fact.  Mindfulness is about tapping into something that was commonplace for our grandparents:  taking each day, each moment, as it came; not having to juggle deadlines, childcare, finances, nights out and traffic holdups.  These days there’s not a lot of Living each Moment, and therein lies a big part of our global chronic health crisis. The speed and stress of daily life is throwing us out of kilter, making many of us sick.

However, saying all that, I get what this client meant.  Even though he hasn’t tried it, he said it sounded too vague, that ‘mindfulness’ didn’t explain enough of what it was about or how to do it.  For him the name seemed to be a big part of why he hadn’t tried it. Hence my search for another word, a new title.

‘Being in the moment,’ or ‘living in the present’ may say more about what it is, but clients have told me they don’t think it’ll work for them, or, like this man, it sounds too ‘out there’.  Someone once told me she was already being careful and didn’t need to do a course on it.
For others it doesn’t sound medical enough, doesn’t carry enough gravitas.  I can’t help wondering if these people are still hanging out for the ‘one thing fixes all’ remedy.  The trouble here is that we’re not living in a one-pill-fixes-all world. Our current chronic diseases are too complex for monotherapies.

The compelling science behind how mindfulness works – how it can kick in a relaxation response that lowers stress & anxiety, how it can lessen gut pain, even body inflammation, and that it’s something that can alter the microbiome and, amazingly, gene expression – all this information seems to only reach those interested in health or lifestyle therapies, and not the ones who might need it the most.  It’s not on their radar until ill health has exhausted conventional medical routes and they somehow find a book or hear about cognitive therapy or an MBCT class (mindfulness based stress reduction), or they start working with a functional nutritionist, like me, who encourages it for helping with anxiety or IBS symptoms.

The thing about starting mindfulness is that we’re already doing it, this living in the present.  Some of us are just not doing it as consciously as we should.  And even though mindfulness is about developing a daily practice that will grow into something bigger and more sustained, into a higher awareness of our days, and of the many ‘present moments’, the key to starting it is to begin small, to keep it do-able.

I’m not a mindfulness expert or teacher, however the weekly mindfulness classes I went to about eight, maybe more?, years ago opened my eyes to the possibility of having a mindful practice in my daily life.
I remember during one of the early classes we were told to walk barefoot in the grass and listen carefully to the sounds around us, and then try doing it at home every day for any length of time we could manage.  It was a lightbulb moment for me, realizing it could be something enjoyable, something I could easily do inbetween work.  Also that I wouldn’t have to sit cross-legged for an hour cancelling all thoughts and finding a higher plane (which of course was my misinterpretation of meditation!)

Slowing down my daily pace in some way, at some point in the day, was key for me when I began (I’m speaking from the perspective of a busy person with a busy mind who likes to pack in lots).

In those early days, the more I read about mindfulness, the more I realized there was no rule about timing, no rule about what mindful practice I should do.  Listening to the breath is often a starting point, and it can be the exclusive daily practice for many.  I love it, all the more so since reading James Nestor’s book, Breath.  However, I’ve met clients over the years who hate it, who say they get anxious listening to their breath, so it really is very individual.
An hour of sewing or gardening might be mindful time for one but torture for another.  Examining pebbles on the beach for an hour might bore most people to tears except me.  Sitting still to watch the day slowly shift from twilight to sunset might be your daily quiet time but only a holiday treat for another. Closing your eyes for ten or more minutes, listening to your breath might be a huge leap of faith.

When I talk about mindfulness to clients I suggest they try whatever they enjoy, something that will slow them down into the Now moment.  Start their practice in small increments and take it from there, not beating themselves up if they need more time to get into a daily routine.  This was the sustaining advice I was given when I was first introduced to mindfulness.  After that, there’s a whole world of excellent books and qualfied teachers out there.

Now back to my first thought.  Is there another word you can think of for Mindfulness, something that might reinject it with oomph, or explain it better?  Something to describe this mindful awareness of our daily moments?  If so, I’d really love to hear from you. x

Green curry paste

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It seems every spring my mind turns to green curry!  This is my Green curry paste recipe, Mark 2, lol.  More ingredients, more depth of flavour plus vegan friendly.  An upgrade of last year’s recipe with less chilli, more ginger and kaffir, a combo of citrus juices plus oils and the addition of delicious adaptogenic and anti inflammatory holy basil.  In fact there are loads of anti inflammatory benefits in this mix.  And just look at the amazing zingy colour!

I love the fact that this recipe is simply the sum of it’s parts. No complicated prep, just some slicing, grating and squeezing.   Saying that, if you want to use whole coriander and cumin seed rather than powder then it’s best to heat them first in a pan to release flavour and aroma before crushing them in a mortar.   I used the powdered forms and they still added their distinctive flavours to the whole.

Last week I made fish cakes with some of the paste, so scrummy we had a repeat yesterday when two friends came over for an early outdoor supper.  (Great to have some Covid restrictions now lifting here in UK.  Long may it last).

You could use the paste as part of a veg curry sauce, with or without coconut milk, or marinate chicken pieces in that luscious green.  Lots of options but I’ll post my fishcake version in the coming week.
It only took about 10 minutes to prepare the paste and 5 minutes to mix ‘n blitz.  It’ll keep in the fridge for a few weeks and is freezer-friendly, hooray!

 

Ingredients:

Makes 6 or 7 tablespoons (give or take the amount of coriander you choose to use)

1 tsp cumin powder (or seed)
1/2 tsp ground pepper ( ” )
1/2 tsp coriander powder ( ” )
1/2 tsp sea salt
1 tsp ground turmeric (or 1 tbsp fresh, grated)
6 small or 3 large garlic cloves, crushed
2 stalks lemongrass (tips off, outer layer off as well if very tough.  Halve and finely chop)
2 tbsps chopped ginger
2-3 hot green chilli, halved, seeds removed and finely sliced, or 1/2-1 tsp dried
3 spring onions, green part only chopped
2 large soft kaffir limes leaves (the dried leaves are hard to blend and can ruin a paste unless you fully remove the leaf’s midrib (central vein) and then very finely slice the green parts, the leaf lamina.  If you can find soft leaves it’s so much easier!)
3 tbsp lemon juice
Zest and juice of a lime
a small bunch of coriander with some stem (about 15-20 leafy stems, give or take)
c 4 stems of holy basil, shredded leaves only
2 tbsp avocado or olive oil
1 tbsp sesame oil
A little water if it’s too congested at the end

Method:

If you want to use seeds for the coriander, cumin and pepper, toast these in a pan first until fragrant then crush with your pestle and add to the rest.

I used a hand-held blender to mix all the ingredients.  Coriander leaves and some stem, basil leaves, kaffir leaves, green chilli, garlic, lemongrass, ginger, spring onion, coriander, cumin, pepper, turmeric, sea salt, lemon and lime juice, lime zest, the oils, and then, right at the end, a dash of water to thin it slightly.
Do a quick taste test.  Add a little more salt or chilli for more kick if you want, or sesame oil or whatever flavours you’d like to taste more of.
The taste is supposed to be strong as it’s carrying most of the flavour for your veg curry or fish cakes.

Enjoy x

 

 

 

 

Asian-style soup

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This is my wellness soup.  I’m such a fan of zingy fresh spices like lemon grass, kaffir lime leaves and ginger.  If I want a comfort soup this is it.  All the more so if adding chicken, with its high tryptophan, an amino acid that’s the precursor to our feel-good serotonin.
The soup can actually be anything you want.  Vegan, pescatarian or a good ‘ole chicken soup with an Asian swing to it.  Here are some options for you to try.

Ingredients

4 servings

Spices for the broth:

1 tsp cumin
1 tsp garam masala
1/2 tsp grated or ground turmeric
1 heaped tbsp brown miso paste
1 crushed, then finely sliced lemon grass
5 dried kaffir lime leaves, crushed with stems removed
4 cms fresh ginger, grated or finely chopped
1.5 litres veg broth or water

*If doing a veg-only soup, ie. no marinade, add c4 tbsp tamari, 1/2 cup chopped coriander, 3 crushed garlic cloves and, if you want a kick, some chilli flakes to the above.  Also more veg broth to compensate for not having the fish/chicken liquid marinade to add to the pot.

The vegetables:

1/2 leek, sliced
150 g brussel sprouts, halved
200g broccoli florets
100g green beans, halved
100g mangetout or sugar snap peas
large handful spinach, shredded
another generous one of kale, finely shredded
4 mini bok choy (or 4 large if you can’t get minis)
olive oil to start the stir fry
sesame oil to drizzle at the very end
chopped coriander to decorate
1 lime, cut into 4 wedges

The optional chicken or salmon:

3 fillets free range or organic chicken, cut into chunks or thick slices
OR
3 wild salmon fillets, whole

Marinate the chicken or fish for at least 4 hours in:
1/2 cup chopped coriander
1/4 tsp dried chilli
1 tsp garam masala
3 crushed garlic
4-5 tbsp tamari
plus enough veg broth to cover the chicken/fish.

Method:

If I’m making my soup with either salmon or the chicken slices, I poach them first.  That way I can remove the fish skin easily and break it into smaller pieces, put aside and focus on the soup and veg.  You can of course poach whilst making the veg broth, whatever works for you.

Gently fry the leek in olive oil on a medium heat until soft.  Add all the spices, stirring well.
Pour in the vegetable broth plus the chicken/fish marinade [or the additions mentioned above for the  *veg-only].
Bring to the boil then simmer.
Add the vegetables to the broth, starting with the halved brussels which may take longer depending on size, then the beans and broccoli.  After simmering about 6-8 minutes (check the sprouts aren’t still rock hard), add the mangetout, bok choy, kale and spinach which only need a bat of an eyelid to wilt.  Now find room for the cooked chicken or salmon!

Serve in deep bowls, drizzle with sesame oil and top with chopped coriander and a wedge of lime, yumm!

Immune health natural tool kit

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Immune health has understandably been in the spotlight since the start of the Covid-19 pandemic.  We’ve all been asking the same:  how to avoid catching Sars-CoV-2, and how to have less severe symptoms if we do catch it.  Staying home, socially distancing and wearing masks will all naturally minimize exposure to any pathogen, but what else can we be doing to support our immune system?

Since nutrition is such a big part of who I am at home, and in clinic, as a functional nutritionist, I’ll always think food first.  If research has shown that we are what we eat, then being vital and thriving versions of ourselves is the first step to being immune strong.

A daily rainbow of vegetables means we can piggy back on the defence mechanisms of the plant world; support our immune systems by eating a variety of colours and tastes.   Bright colours and strong smells and tastes – just think of garlic! – are the plants’ defences that translate into antioxidants, phytonutrients, vitamins and minerals for us.
Ten or twelve portions of vegetables, herbs and fruit may sound a lot, but it’s not that difficult to incorporate them into daily meals.  Salads, soups, juices, stir fries, oven roast veg, or a packed steam-pot.  Variety and colour are key.  Then add to that good quality protein, healthy fats – and clean, fresh water, always – and we have an arsenal of nutrients to battle any infection.

In order to absorb and effectively use these immune-enhancing nutrients our digestion has to be working well.  In fact, with Covid-19, we need to ensure our gastrointestinal AND oral & respiratory barriers are robust and healthy.  There are specific foods, nutrients and probiotics that can help us optimize the structure of these barriers, as well as increase the diversity of our gut’s microbiome.

Sleep ourselves well!  This is a quote by Matthew Walker, sleep specialist and author of the best seller ‘Why we Sleep’ who seemed to be on every health podcast in 2020 explaining the importance of sleep to our overall health and longevity (watch him on Youtube’s Ted series, 2019 and 2020).
Walker writes about the link to immune health, stating how during sleep we not only stimulate the production of different immune factors, but the body also increases its sensitivity to those factors.  We literally wake up immune stronger after a good night’s sleep.   Reason enough to hunker down and rest if we get sick.  According to Walker and other sleep experts we should be aiming for 7 and 9 hours each night to ensure continued wellness; more if you’re a child or teen – or ill.

Being outdoors is another vital part of good health.  It has been shown to improve overall well being and more specifically our immune status.
There are so many fascinating studies focussing on our deep bond with nature.  How simply looking at the sea or forest or at birds and clouds can lower blood pressure and be an antidote to stress (‘ecopsychology’), as well as improve our immunity.
Stand in a woodland amongst trees and we’re breathing in compounds called phytoncides, the airborne antimicrobial chemicals that plants release as protection against insects.  Shinrin yoku, (directly translated to forest bathing), enhances our immune health because these phytoncides have antimicrobial properties which our bodies respond to by increasing the activity of certain cells in our white blood cell army, namely our natural killer (NK) cells which kill off virus-infected cells.

Take it a step further, literally, and we have exercise, no newcomer to playing a role in our well being.  We all now understand how exercise of any sort, when not excessive, can improve so many body systems, from circulation and heart to bones and mental health a.o.
Endorphins, such as serotonin, rise when we exercise, and these higher ‘happy’ serotonin levels are yet another antidote to the damage that stress hormones can wreak.  Stress will always undermine our immune health.

Exercise immunology is a fairly new sub discipline of exercise physiology and looks at the relationship between exercise and immune function.   In an article from The Journal of Sport and Health Science (May 2019) we can read that short bursts of exercise enhance our anti-inflammatory cytokines and natural killer (NK) cells, as well as increase neutrophils and our T cells (according to many sources including BMJ, these T cells are the actual ‘superstars’ of our white blood cell army, in the fight against Covid; BMJ 2020;370:m3563).

When outdoors exercising we are being exposed to natural light.  This in turn affects our melatonin, the hormone that regulates sleep.  Being outdoors in the morning, ideally walking or exercising, exposes us to that natural light, helps set our natural clock for the day and also gives us a better sleep routine. Win-Win!
Interestingly, there have been numerous studies on melatonin during 2020 due to its antioxidant, anti inflammatory – and its immunomodulatory properties. It is being researched for potentially helping reduce the consequences of the SARS-Cov-2 infection, and studies continue on its potential antiviral action (Frontiers in Medicine. https://doi.org/10.3389/fmed.2020.00226).

If we’re social distancing and eating our rainbow diet (plus protein, healthy fats, water…), sleeping well and exercising, plus trying not to get stressed by work, or lack of it, or children home-learning or the latest global disaster (or certain irritating BBC journalists reporting on Covid), but we still end up catching SARS-Cov-2, or even the common cold, what other support is there for our immune system?

So many studies and papers were published during 2020 concerning Vitamin D.   In the functional nutrition world this vitamin has been in the limelight for a number of years now due to its immune-protective properties.  So it’s been heartening to see how doctors the world over, and the NHS here in UK, are recognising its importance and recommending we check D levels and supplement if low.
It may be difficult at the moment to get vitamin D blood levels checked if in lockdown or if medical staff and clinics are overwhelmed.  There are however labs across UK, and no doubt in other countries, which can send out Vit D finger prick test kits.  Easy to do and not expensive.  Here in UK a number of NHS hospitals are offering these kits online, just have a google.
Chances are, if living in the northern hemisphere, D levels will be low given the lack of sun, which is how we make Vitamin D.  And it’s likely to be the same in the warmer southern hemisphere if people are lathered in high factor sunscreens.
Foods like oily fish, egg yolks and some fortified foods will have small amounts of Vit D, however taking D in supplement form is a good solution (although the best solution will always be supplementing after having been tested since overdosing on Vit D, although not easy to do, can potentially be dangerous).

Other star antioxidant vitamins are A, E and C.  Vitamin C has a long history of immune support, but drinking huge glasses of orange juice won’t cut it.  Not only are you getting a detrimental sugar spike in your blood, but you’re missing the ‘whole’ fruit benefits.  Plus, in the end it won’t be anything near the levels of C you need if combatting a virus.  You can safely supplement 500 mg – 2000 mg in divided doses daily.
Vitamins A, E and C are all critical for immune health, with the bonus that they also improve the integrity of our gut and lung barriers.

Another crucial player when it comes to immune modulation is zinc.  Amongst its many attributes it stimulates the hormone in our thymus gland to produce new T cells.   Sadly, this mineral is sorely lacking in our diet since it’s lacking in our soils.  We also don’t get enough from fish when the fish is farmed.  And despite it being in a lot of fortified cereals these are rich in phytic acid which binds out the zinc so we can’t absorb it well.  Everyone tends to be low in zinc and a supplement of 15mg daily is generally safe.  Again, it’s best to check your zinc levels with a functional nutritionist or doctor so you know the amount you should supplement.

There are so many different herbs that are immune-supportive.  In fact, if we add a wide variety to our cooking, eg. rosemary, thyme, basil, oregano etc, then we’ll be adding a wide palette of phytonutrients that will not just be improving the flavour of our food but also our health status.
There are some stand-alone herbs which have either specific anti-viral action, like echinacea, or anti inflammatory properties like turmeric root, or herbs like andrographis, which have been traditionally used to support immunity in the respiratory tract.   Again, it’s best to work with someone in the know when it comes to herbal tinctures.

Last but by no means least, medicinal mushrooms have to be mentioned.  Mycology, the study of fungi, burst onto the health scene years ago due to the astonishing antioxidant properties and immunemodulating effects of specific mushrooms.   There are a number of varieties like reishi, shiitake, turkey tail (coriolus versicolor) and chaga which show anti-viral action, either by inhibiting viral replication or enhancing the cellular immune response to infection.  As long as you’re not allergic to them, adding fresh shiitake mushrooms to your menu or a reishi powder to your smoothie or soup can only be good, and there are some excellent supplements available.

Viruses are resilient so they certainly won’t be going away anytime soon.  However, nature has given us this wonderful tool kit to work with – food, specific nutrients, sleep, exercise, the outdoors – which can help us either as a preventative measure or in face of an acute infection.

Let’s make use of this tool kit and go safely forward into a healthier year!

Kedgeree, the appleaday way

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I didn’t know this dish actually had a name.  For years I made a version of it with leftover rice and fresh fish, shredded greens and various curry ingredients.
One day a friend, a nutritional therapist colleague staying with us, sat back after dinner and said, ‘I like the way you make kedgeree with fresh fish and no egg.’
And that’s when I discovered my leftover rice-fish dish was called something.  I’d prepared it with more leafies, more antioxidants, and taken away some of the smokey flavour.  A tasty and healthier version, this kedgeree-ISH dish.

I use mainly fresh fish fillets with a nod to the original smoked recipe by adding a small fillet of lightly smoked salmon.  Sadly, studies show that smoked foods contain nitrates & nitrites that convert to cancer-causing compounds.  I’d recommend that if you want to eat anything smoked, enjoy it as a rare treat and not something to keep in your weekly diet.
When I look at traditional kedgeree recipes what stands out is the lack of colour.  Admittedly we don’t want every meal we eat to look like the same rainbow.  However, adding some leafy greens and broccoli to this dish livened it up yet didn’t detract from the fish and curry flavours.  More leafies = more phytonutrients and immune support.

I don’t always add boiled eggs, which of course is one of kedgeree’s hallmarks.   As delicious as they are (& such a fab protein & nutrient source, especially if the chickens are fed on a rich omega 3 diet), eggs are quite a common intolerance food.   I’m seeing more and more clients who say they sometimes feel ‘off’ after eating them.  However, if they’re a friend of your digestion by all means add them when serving up.

Here’s a snapshot of most of the ingredients in the recipe.  Please imagine a leek lying horizontally at the top, and real fish not photos, laid out on that plate.
I only thought of taking this shot after we’d scoffed it all!

Ingredients
Serves 4 – 6

250g lightly smoked salmon
250g white flakey fish like haddock or cod.  Or wild salmon if you don’t mind salmon… and more salmon
250g mixed rice (eg. basmati brown, red, black or whatever blend you can find)
500ml water or vegetable broth for the rice
2 or 3 small red onions, finely sliced
1/2 leek, green part, sliced
100g shredded spinach
100-150g broccoli, broken into tiny florets
100g frozen peas
1 heaped tsp hot curry powder (or mild if you prefer)
10 dried curry leaves, crushed
1/2 tsp cardamom powder
1/4 tsp turmeric powder
1/4 – 1/2 tsp dried chilli (optional)
200-250g plant milk;  I’ve used coconut or oat
2 boiled eggs (for 4 servings, 3 eggs for 6)
olive oil for cooking
freshly ground pepper
sea salt if needed
4 tbsp flat leafed parsely, chopped

Method:

In a pot gently heat the olive oil then add the sliced onion.  Cook until translucent.
Add the rice and stir until coated then cover with 500ml vegetable broth or water.  Bring to the boil, uncovered, then lower the heat, replace the lid and allow to cook for about 15 mins.
Check the rice near the end to make sure it isn’t catching.

Meanwhile boil your eggs if you’re adding them to the dish.  Rinse in cold water and peel ready to quarter.

In a deep pan, or large pot that will take the finished meal with rice, heat 3 tbsp olive oil.
Gently fry the leek then add the crushed curry leaves, curry powder and other spices.  Gently fry the fish on both sides.  Note that if your fish has skin, fry it skin-side down before using tongs or a fork and knife to remove it.

Add the vegetable milk to the fish-spice-leek and simmer.
Most fish fillets will be cooked within 10-12 minutes.  Even though this is a forgiving dish you don’t want your fish overcooked and turning into a mush when you add the rice and mix them together.
For the last 5 minutes of fish cooking time add the tiny florets of broccoli, frozen peas and spinach.
Once the fish is cooked, gently break it into chunks to your liking.

Add the cooked rice to the pan of fish, spices and greens.  Gently fold in and do a taste check.
Do you want more curry powder or perhaps some chilli?   You may need sea salt if you haven’t used vegetable broth, or smoked fish.

Serve in large bowls, top with chopped parsley and divide up the quartered eggs evenly.

Finish with ground black pepper –  and enjoy.

Finding positives, sharing passions

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Reflections on a challenging year

I hope this finds you all safe and well.  As we near the end of what’s undeniably been a difficult year, I thought I’d try to share some thoughts and ideas that have helped me through these past challenging months.
It’s understandable that our focus has been on this pandemic and everything that it has brought with it.  And yet, for so many, bright moments have managed to shine through.

A lot of clients and friends have commented that Covid has made them reset priorities, whether it’s been spending more time with family or reconnecting with old friends, changing jobs, healing rifts.   More quiet time to think about what’s important.
The countryside tracks and fields around us here in Dorset look so different!  More people are out and about in nature doing daily walks, runs or cycles when they’d never found time in the past.

Our internet world has opened up all sorts of possibilities.  Some amazing online classes and workshops are now so easy to access.  I’ve loved the virtual tours of art exhibitions, and YouTube instructional videos have never been so important!
Zoom and phone consultations have meant I’ve been able to carry on working with clients.  Webinars and online – virtual – conferences have made my CPD accessible and stress-free.
How have you found all these new online offerings?  Are you part of a zoom reading group or quiz gathering?

We’ve all been given pause for thought; all of us have faced our own vulnerability and humanity.
I know I’ve been more grateful than ever for the caring people in my life who’ve checked in to see how things are going.

A new year is about to happen, and with it new hope.
On January 7th I’ll be back at my work desk with zoom and phone in hand.  As always, an appleaday Christmas gift is here for you, a 20% discount for appointments in the month of January.  Please book via email mentioning this newsletter.

Below are some photos, clicks and thoughts on health which show a few of the many silver linings I found this year.  Hopefully there are some here for you as well  x

There’s so much evidence on the health benefits of being in nature.  I certainly felt those positives on free July days when I’d go outside and check on our new bed of dahlia babies, or tackle yet another weedy garden patch.  I’d often have headphones on, listening to a podcast.
I love the discussions on Rangan Chatterjee’s ‘Feel Better, Live More’ app.  Here’s a link to a talk he had with Dr Tara Swart that was recorded around the time of UK’s first lockdown.  So much invaluable food for thought.

https://drchatterjee.com/how-to-plan-the-post-lockdown-future-of-your-dreams-and-coping-with-emotions-with-dr-tara-swart/

Another more recent episode I found very interesting was with Arianne Huffington.  It was about the value of microsteps and rituals, both such integral parts of my clinic practice.  The discussion seemed to embrace more and more fascinating topics as it went along.  I came away feeling so inspired (although it did take me a wee bit to get used to her voice!)

https://drchatterjee.com/arianna-huffington-microsteps-and-rituals-to-help-you-thrive/

Since Covid kicked off I’ve seen many clients having problems with poor sleep, stress, anxiety or depression.
The trauma of this year is having a huge impact on our inner lives.
There are so many effective ways to help our emotional well-being but when you’re in the thick of it, it can be hard to figure out which ones to try.
If you’d like some helpful pointers and health recommendations as a first step,  I still offer free short calls.  Not enough time, of course, for a full health check, but certainly enough to have a chat.
Just email or call to sort out a time to suit us both.

Meanwhile, I’ve mentioned The Calm app to many clients and friends over the years.  It’s certainly been my safety net when I wake up in the early hours with thoughts buzzing.
There’s a plethora of different relaxation and sleep supports on it, from stories to mindful practices, music and sounds in nature.  All help move thoughts to a calmer space.
Here’s a taster, but remember there are lots more choices on the app to cover all preferences.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4x9ssJ0jfM

This photo made me laugh!  An Australian family finding a baby koala amongst the decorations in their tree.  Oh how I’d love to find a koala in our Dorset Xmas branches, but it’s highly unlikely even if borders open!

Here are some fave Xmas recipes from my website.  We’re keeping it simple this year so we have more time to chill, but the soup and orange cake are definites!

https://www.appleaday.org.uk/christmas-butternut-porridge/

https://www.appleaday.org.uk/orange-xmas-cake/

https://www.appleaday.org.uk/christmas-vegan-chestnut-and-sage-soup/

https://www.appleaday.org.uk/chestnut-butternut-and-mushroom-pie/

Finally, a last share for those wanting to sit back, forget the cooking and read a good book instead.  These are just a few of many good books I read this year, both fiction and work-related.  I’d love to hear what your favourite reads were, so please email or message me here or via social media.

Mind Wide Open, by Steven Johnson
Rewilding: A return to nature, by Isabella Tree (what a great surname!)
Patch work: a life amongst clothes, by Clare Wilcox (curator of fashion at the V&A)
The Unmapped Mind:  A memoir of neurology, MS and learning how to live, by Christian Donlan.
Always hard to decide but I think this last one is my book of the year.  It’s not a textbook but a poignant, funny and very illuminating memoir I simply couldn’t put down.

I wish you all the very best in the coming days, weeks and months.
The world is sharing the same Christmas wish this year I’m sure: good health to everyone.

Be safe, be merry!

 

Fava or split pea mash

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Greek fava is delicious alongside a selection of meze or as a dip with bread or carrot sticks, or a replacement for your mashed potato.  Versatile or what!?
Made of yellow (or red) split peas, fava originates from Santorini where the peas grow well on the island’s rich volcanic soil.  These days we can find dried split peas in health food shops and most supermarkets.  Easy to keep in your larder and have at hand when you’re wondering what to cook that night.

I tend to soak the split peas for at least four hours even though they’re more easily digested than larger dried beans – just habit from working with clients who can’t tolerate pulses.
I love fava with caramelised onion on top or with capers – or both.  There are so many variations, it’s one of those taste-and-decide recipes, as you can tell by some of the options I’ve suggested below 🙂
You can blend it super smooth or mash it to whatever texture your taste buds like.  It’s a super easy & delicious recipe, so I hope you try it out.

Ingredients:
For 4

250 g yellow or red split peas (soaked min 4 hours if you want to play it safe)
1/2 red onion, peeled
another onion, peeled and finely sliced
1 peeled clove garlic, & an extra to add later if you like a garlicky taste
1 heaped tsp ground cumin
squeeze of lemon juice
a smidgeon or more (or less) of ground chilli
sea salt
freshly ground pepper
extra virgin oil
capers, if you like them

Method:

Sieve the split peas to remove any possible small stones then if you have the time soak overnight, but otherwise just wash well.
Put into a pot and cover with about 1″ water.
Peel your onion, chop in half and snuggle it, together with the peeled garlic clove, into the centre of your peas-in-a-pot.
Boil and skim off the white froth that will want to bubble over.  Then simmer with lid on.
When I used to try different versions of this recipe I’d often read, ‘cook for 40 mins’ but, to be honest, my split peas seem to get soft within 15-20 minutes.  This could be due to the soaking, or the peas.  However, once you’ve skimmed the scum and place on simmer, don’t head off to your desk or into the garden.  Stay close as they may be soft and ready sooner than you think, or they may need more topping up with water if they’re resolutely hard.

Meanwhile, finely slice the other 1 + 1/2 onion and gently fry in oil in a pan.  This will be your topping, so just put aside until you need it.

When the split peas are cooked and soft, blend or mash, add the squeeze of lemon, spices and taste.  If the garlic flavour has boiled away, add another fresh clove.
Make a small crater (ode to Santorini) in the middle and drizzle in some virgin olive oil and top with your caramelised onion and/or capers.
Enjoy!

Fig chutney

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Finding different ways to prepare and cook summer’s ripe vegetables and fruit is an important part of seasonal eating.
At the moment fig trees here in Greece are laden, so we’re eating them daily (never thought I’d say I’m figged out!)
Delicious when freshly chopped in muesli, added to smoothies or salads, or with cheese, but as I want to preserve as many as possible – not let the wasps eat them all! – I’m also stewing them to freeze, drying them in the sun and making chutneys, a definite favourite and so very easy.
It’s summer here, too hot for Moroccan stews, but that could be something for the winter, adding some of the lightly stewed figs you’ve cooked and popped in the freezer now.


This chutney started off as on online BBC food recipe but it was somehow lacking, plus the figs here are so sweet, most of the online recipes had too much added sugar.   That’s something to bear in mind.  Adjust to the sweetness of the figs in your part of the world!

Honey rather than sugar gives a chutney another scrummy layer especially if you use your local honey, raw honey or perhaps even Arbutus honey with its sweet-bitter taste.
I kept the chilli in this recipe to a small ‘kick;’ just enough to make it less jammy.  Very individual whether you want chilli in it at all – or if you want to add even more.  You could always start small and work up, like I did.
Chutney isn’t just an addition to cheese or a ploughman’s lunch!  It can be added to steamed veg or to a stir fry or enjoyed alongside roast meats, chicken or turkey, very delicious.
I’m loving it topped on my almond butter toast here!  I hope you get lots of mileage from the scrummy recipe x

Ingredients

For a 1/2 litre Kilner jar (or a tad more so you can eat some straight away 🙂

400g fresh ripe figs, chopped
120 ml apple cider vinegar
1 organic apple, cored and chopped (peel first if not organic)
1 red onion, finely chopped
50g sultanas or raisins
1 heaped tbs honey (or more depending on your figs’ sweetness)
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp cardamom
1 (less or more) red chilli, seeds removed and finely chopped
1 tsp sea salt

Method

Put all the ingredients into a pot and simmer uncovered for about 1 hour.  Spoon into a sterilised Kilner jar or empty glass jar.  As easy as that!

 

 

 

Crossing Covid borders (or Our Road trip in tomato miles)

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Last week we packed up the car, put on our masks and I took a very deep breath of courage.  A road trip across Europe was the last thing on my mind, I was still stuck in Downing’s street ‘Stay home’ slogan even though UK had moved on from there.
Travel was happening, flights were flying, but government recommendations were once again wobbling, erring on the side of caution after some viral clusters up north and spikes in parts of Spain.  I was quite happy staying in our Dorset cocoon, thank you kindly.

However I’m married to a braver human bean who was chomping at the bit to get out to the olive grove, to lop and clear and feed our trees for that wannahave opulent harvest.  Also to deal with any wildlife that had moved into the house, and yes, to swim in the Ionian and enjoy some summer heat.
He told me we could do the drive in three days, just had to exercise caution and common sense and keep washing our hands.
I wasn’t so sure, but the choices didn’t look good.  Fly out and join him when the virus had calmed down?  Well, planes were definitely not on my to-do list (yet!), and Covid-19 wasn’t showing any signs of exhaustion.
Husband Braveheart then assured me we didn’t have to book anything until the last minute.  He knew me well.  It gave me wriggle room to wait and see if the dreaded second spike would lock us down; time to check online if there were problems crossing borders.
Silly, of course, since problems could arise from day to day, minute by minute, but crucially it gave me time to get used to the idea and supplement my faith and wobbling courage with mega doses of brave thoughts.

Fear can really mess around with your mind.  That’s what this road trip has shown me.  Also, that the English, French, Italians and Greeks all look the same in masks (but tomatoes in each of these countries look quite different 🙂

We headed off on a Tuesday just after dawn, passing the most breathtaking gossamer mist lying on the fields around our village; sheep floating on clouds.  How I would’ve loved to have taken some pictures but I knew that a photo stop three minutes from home might be pushing my luck.  We were now on a mission, moving forward at speed.

We drove past the edge of a low-cloud New Forest, then onto a mist-filled empty M3 followed by a not-so-misty M25 with morning traffic moving smoothly, which was a first.  Needless to say we arrived at the Eurotunnel with oodles of time to spare, but no earlier trains were offered unless extra was paid.  That wasn’t going to happen since we’d already paid considerably more than in the past.

So many cars were lined up at the terminal!  Didn’t they know they shouldn’t be crossing borders or gallavanting off?  That hesitant see-saw was STILL happening in my head even after we’d packed up the house and given three peeps baby-sitting rights to our house and tomato plants.  Crazy, right?  Fear had definitely set up home in my brain’s amygdala.

The first interesting Covid change I noticed was that only Starbucks was open in the Eurotunnel building.  Leon’s restaurant and the other independant coffee/food outlet there were both shut, and that just about sums up how stupid some decisions have been in these times.  No real coffee to be had for Braveheart and no delicious Leon nibbles for me.
Luckily I’d made enough sourdough rolls to last the week so we didn’t bother, but we did use the loos; signs everywhere were warning us that toilets on the train were off bounds.
People came in and out of the terminal, lined up for their Starbucks, but they weren’t the crowds I’d dreaded.  Most of them were wearing masks and certainly all were keeping sensibly apart.

The border checked our passports and that was it.  No taking of temperatures, no forms to fill out declaring we were Covid-free, although I could’ve sworn the month before, online forms had been requested; go figure.

Whisked from Folkestone to Calais in 30 minutes we found ourselves on the autoroute with a  clear blue-sky above, and on both sides endless stands of ripening corn and dirt-brown fields where grains had been harvested.  On the horizon I could make out vast stands of sunflowers, blooms long gone but still tall and leafy with blackened seed heads gently bowed to the ground.   This was normally the low, flat landscape with sludge grey skies that would make me yawn into a neck-cricked car sleep.  Today a shining scene took hold of my attention.  Windows open, I breathed in holiday.

Before I go any further, and whilst in France, I have to mention the autoroutes here.  Who can’t wax lyrical about them after the bump and polluted constriction of the M25?   Why we can’t do the same in England is a mystery to me.  Can anyone explain?
In addition, the highway service stations in France are also more like destinations than simply refuelling spots.  Rows of shady trees, beds of tall swaying white gaura and cars separated by wide stretches of grass and picnic benches.  Not the concrete car landscape on most of the British motorways with their boxed-in plantings and scattering of reluctant saplings trying their best.  So, even with a stream of travellers arriving off the autoroute all the time, safe-distancing was easy.  Enough space and trees and greenery to separate us all.

We covered 891 kilometres that first day, the longest drive day of all.  We decided to bed down just outside Beaune, a beautiful medieval town in the centre of the Bourgogne wine region that we’d never seen before and hadn’t planned on seeing now  – we were on our mission etc – but the evening we arrived something changed.  We sat in the hotel gardens, trying the local wine and eating our sourdough sandwiches (the restaurant was closed), and as we watched guests soaking up the last of the sun and a family playing in the pool, a couple riding down the lane on bikes, I suddenly realised that we were watching people who were actually on holiday, not just passing through as quickly as possible.  So the following day we woke up to the idea that a drive into town and a wander around would be just the thing.  Braveheart’s mission could be put on hold for an hour.

Turned out to be three hours because Beaune may be small but it is really one of the prettiest towns.  Very vigilant too, almost worryingly so.  Masks were on indoors as well as out, with locals crossing the street when they saw us, hurrying along cobbled lanes armed with purpose and fresh baguettes.
When I look back, it was in Beaune where people seemed to be the most careful, taking ‘soyez prudent’ to a level that would disperse any fear of catching anything, not even a smile or a glance, which of course is another sorry downside of this distancing palaver and mask-wearing.  Not seeing facial expressions and smiles and people not making eye contact.

At the end of our wander we watched a small street market being set up (of course there’d be a market, we’re in France!)  This one was mainly selling trinkets but onetiny stall had a display of the most astonishing tomatoes which had nothing to do with the tomatoes in my veggie box back home, or the tiny firm buds of green cherry toms in our Dorset garden.
This Beaunian stall holder was selling heritage tomatoes in delightful small crates, denizens of the region I would’ve happily slipped into our car had there been room (sadly, like a time capsule, it was filled to the brim, ready for all countries, weathers and emergencies).  Just seeing these tomatoes made me so inordinately happy.  Look at them, aren’t they stunning!?

Leaving the town late morning we wound our way towards the foothills of the Alps and onwards to the chocolate-box mountains that would take us over the border to Italy.
Did it occur to us there might be long delays into the Mt Blanc tunnel?
When the road sign glittered silver bold type letters at us ‘Expect a wait of 90 minutes’, I was sure it was Covid-related, the testing I’d been expecting or at least something to do with checking forms and asking about our well-being.
But no, it was simply August, the main holiday month in France and Italy.  With most people staying closer to home there were more cars on the road – not that we realised until we got stuck in the tunnel queue.
Motor off, windows down and another sourdough sarnie as we waited for all the vehicles to inch up the last hairpin.  Snowcapped mountains above, a waterfall beside us, it was easy to take.

By early evening we reached Piacenza, a beautiful walled city in the Emilia Romagna region.  We’d stayed here a few times before, loved the Palazzo Gotico and Piazza Cavalli, and the hotel which had coped so well with our groundhog days two years before when our old car broke down and we stayed on and on.
Sad, but no surprise to hear the hotel was running at 40% capacity.  And the breakfast buffet the following morning was such a lonely experience, with us standing in a vast room at a distance to the buffet table, pointing to various foods whilst a young masked girl silently placed hot and cold bits on our plates.  Cold scrambled eggs by the time we reached our table, not a culinary delight.

Emilia Romagna was one of the four regions in northern Italy worst hit by the pandemic back in March.  The north was where Italy’s Covid-19 journey began.  In April about 70% of positive virus cases were reportedly from Lombardi, Emilia Romagna, Veneto and Piemonte here in the north.
Contrary to what you might be thinking, knowing about my wobbly start, this Covid fact hadn’t concerned me in the least when I was doing our last minute overnight bookings before the trip.  My brain must’ve been appeased by the fact that people here had been through hell and would be careful, they wouldn’t want it repeated.

We sat outside in the square, drank our beer and aperol spritze then moved to another outdoor restaurant for dinner at 8.  Most tables were empty, too early for the locals but not for us.  After 623 km, and with more dreary hours on the autostrada than we ha expected, we were exhausted and in need of a long sleep.

Day 3, the planned short drive (not) from Piacenza to Ancona.  We were catching our Anek lines vessel at 1500hrs for the overnight crossing of the Adriatic, landing the following morn at 8 (not!) in Igoumenitsa, northern mainland Greece.

What we didn’t take into account was that Italy, too, had crazy early morning work traffic.  Bumper to bumper for a couple of hours then some light reprieve for a few breaths before the turn-off to Ancona, with another slow crawl behind a stream of cars heading towards the port.  Luckily those see-saw thoughts of mine had stopped – the ones silently questioning why peeps were travelling and not staying home.  Fear had let go its white-knuckled grip as we waited in endless queues of traffic.

We’d talked about buying fresh food to take on board the boat since our sourdough sandwiches were long gone, and who knew what the ship’s restaurant would be like.

Following the huge check-in sign above the road, we parked and walked over to the terminal building where “Only car driver inside” handed over our precious declaration documents proving we were fit and symptom-free with no known Covid case contact (hooray, at last someone wanted to know!)
But with that we were checked into the system and unable to drive back to town to go food shopping.  Once checked in we couldn’t ‘check out’!

There was only a lone portacabin cafe by the terminal building selling limp pizzas; that was it.  So there was not much more for us to do than follow the signs to the expanse of boarding area, a concrete desert where hundreds of cars and trucks were already waiting in the midday heat.

Tucked on one side was a small white van that was selling food no one seemed to want.  Just one lone customer sipping on an overly bright-orange sparkling something.
I don’t know if this lack of food outlets was Covid related or not, but what a missed opportunity, given the hundreds  – thousands? – of trucks, cars and bikes waiting there for hours each day.

I walked over to check it out even though the bags of crisps, biscuits and fizzy drinks looked very unpromising.  Disappointment bubbled up again that we’d missed out on a deli purchase in town.
But then I saw them over on the right.  Through the glass display window I spied fresh rolls, ham…. and a pile of the juiciest red beef tomatoes, the only fresh veg I’d glimpsed since leaving Piacenza at crack of early.  Another moment of tomato joy in a sandwich!

Just before separating to go on board (‘only drivers in the car, passengers walk’), we clocked that we’d covered another 380 km.  We’d done the fastest zzzzzoom across Italy ever.

I could write a whole blog about the ship aka ferry crossing but I’ll spare you.
A quick list of impressions instead:
– All the crew wore small chin visors but most were cupped below the mouth looking more like some medical chin support.
–  I never saw a bottle of hand sanitiser on board but there were plenty of soap dispensers in all the public toilets so that was something
– A crew waiter or waitress was quick to clear up the huge mess of edible debris that was sadly abandoned by mainly young peeps (sorry, but true) who were maybe travelling together, or maybe not
– Every hour or so an intercom voice announced how the vessel was ensuring masks were worn and distances kept, and that this was the reason why ‘Anek lines was keeping us safe.’ But…I never saw or heard any crew member telling us to wear masks and keep safe.  Some travellers wore them when going into the cafe or wandering around the inside of the ship but I can’t say it was a masked sea journey.  Half and half if I’m being kind.
–  A big positive: it was easy to find secluded corners, quiet spaces to keep our distance.  Or to stay in a cabin – if you had one, which we did.  A super cozy one in fact with a large porthole window we’d never had before on these crossings.  Normally a black hole cabin, but this time Braveheart had booked us a ‘Pure’ cabin (which does beg the question what the rest of them were).
– The tables in the self-serve restaurant couldn’t be distanced as they were bolted to the ground, but there were only a few people dining and they were all using common sense.  We certainly enjoyed our Greek salads without strangers breathing all over them x

The following morn yet another shining day greeted us.  What a sunny road trip we were having!  However, our hearts sank when we realized the ship aka vessel aka ferry wasn’t going to be landing in Igoumenitsa by 8.  We hadn’t even reached the first stop of Corfu and given we had another ferry to catch which was a 3 hour drive south we were aware of time passing.

It was s-l-o-w progress disembarking.  Officials were checking documents and I have to admit I felt quite put out when we were told we had to leave our spot in the line of cars for the Covid testing (which I’d been waiting for all this time, but not now when we were about to miss connections!)
The chin-masked official pointed to a dead-end area in the distance, a normally forgotten, shabby corner of the port where around 20 cars were parked hugger-mugger.  I could make out clusters of people and a line of sorts forming the way Italians and Greeks do it, not the British-like queues.

There were 2 ‘patient’ chairs and just 3 officials in PPE but, oh my word, they worked quicker than I could’ve ever imagined.  I’m guessing they didn’t want to be in close contact for more than a minute with any of us viral foreigners.  Results, they told us, would be texted to us in 24 hours IF positive.
Luckily we never got that text.

The drive south to Patras was easy, partly because we’d done it before but also due to the fact it was a new highway, thank goodness, which was more than equal to the French autoroutes.  Breathtaking mountain scenery all the way, hardly any cars and the first spits of rain and grey skies, how funny, now we were in sunny Greece.

After Patras, there was the usual hair-raising 45 minute drive on the one-lane-pretending-to-be-three road to Killlini; this was the main port for ferries heading to the Ionian islands. We were speeding along with the others, dearly hoping we’d make our ferry connection.

Levante’s car ferry crossing turned out to be a totally different experience to the previous one.  Yes, only a 1.5 hour journey but it was full of rules and hand sanitiser and an official keeping us a metre apart as passengers boarded.
Masks had to be worn at ALL times we were told.  Inside, alternate tables and chairs had been cordoned off ensuring no one sat too close.

When I took off my mask to drink water, at our safely distanced table, I forgot to put it back on (ok,perhaps I forgot on purpose; suffocating in the heat).  A young woman at the table closest to us reminded me loudly to put my mask back on.
Even out on deck, with plenty of space and fresh air and hardly anyone about, masks had to be worn, which I thought was a bit ott (and that should be enough to tell you that 4 days of crossing borders had sorted out the fearful amygdala of my brain).

99.9% of the people on board were from Greece, one chatty official explained when I asked why the speaker annoucements weren’t in their usual English.
He told me the announcer was telling us that Levante ferries were keeping us safe.
And indeed they were!

We landed in Kefalonia, in the town of Poros and only had a short drive to our olive grove house.
Somehow those 35 minutes felt longer than the hours we’d travelled each day, but they did give me pause to think about the miles covered, and to feel grateful for the sun and blue skies that had made it all so easy, showing us so many landscapes at their best.  And also to take stock of just how empowering those four travel days had been.  I suspect fear had flown out the window the minute I realized it wasn’t just in UK – or in our cocooned Dorset – that people were using common sense and trying to stay safe.  All of us in this global mess together were doing our best.

Freshly picked tomatoes and chillis from our lovely neighbours awaited us, and a message from home that felt like a pat on the back, congratulating us on the journey.
They were definitely the best-tasting tomatoes I’d eaten.
Well…the best that day 🙂

 

Stats:

Left Dorset 0550hrs 4th August, arrived Kefalonia 1700hrs 7th August.
Kilometres driven:  2272 km
Ferry Ancona-Igoumenitsa:  723 km (390 nautical miles)
Ferry Killini to Poros:   50 km.

Phew!

Spiced carrot and red chard pancakes

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This is a delicious vegan dish, a combination of shredded carrot pancakes with roasted spiced carrot – carrot upon carrot! – topped with a mint-garlic-lime juice df yoghurt.

Inspired by Nikki Webster’s scrummy recipe I added red chard to mine here below for extra colour and antioxidant goodness.  Spinach or kale, cavalo nero or even something like radicchio with its slightly sharp tang, would be delicious.  Really, the choice is yours.
Antioxidants are on my mind big-time due to my current auto immune and post-chemo clients not to mention the background noise of Covid-19, so I multiplied the antioxidant ooomph that spices offer and added lots of ginger, turmeric and garlic.

These gram spiced pancakes are a fabulous base for all sorts of other meals.  I topped them with a mixed rainbow salad last week and last night ate them with fish (cumin and garam masala rubbed on hake before grilling).
It’s so good to wriggle a recipe into the shape that suits your individual taste – and the occasion.
Have fun, and I hope you enjoy this dish 🙂

Ingredients:

Serves 2

Spiced carrots:

2 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp brown mustard seeds
2 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp ground turmeric
1/2 – 1 tsp chilli flakes
1 large or 2 medium onions, finely chopped
4 cloves garlic, pressed
4 cms knob ginger, grated
3 medium carrots, diced into small cubes
6 large red chard leaves (I finely sliced some of the stalks as well); or 2 large handfuls of young spinach or kale, roughly chopped
250ml filtered water
4 tbsp desiccated coconut, lightly roasted
sea salt and black pepper to taste

Carrot pancakes:

140g gram flour
1 tsp sea salt
2 garlic, pressed
1/2 tsp ground turmeric
1 tsp ground cumin
pinch chilli flakes – optional of course!
80g grated carrots
handful fresh coriander, chopped
300 ml luke warm water
2 tbsp olive oil

Yoghurt Topping:

6 tbsp plain coconut- or almond-based yoghurt (I used Coconut Collaborative’s df)
juice of 1 lime
1 tbsp virgin olive oil
1-2 garlic, squeezed
4 tbsp chopped fresh mint (about 5 medium leaves per tbsp) or 3 tbsp dried
sea salt to taste

Mix these together and your topping is done!

 

Method:

Carrot pancakes:

Mix all the dry ingredients, add the pressed garlic, olive oil and water.  Blend well then stir in the chopped coriander and grated carrots.  Set aside for 15-20 minutes whilst you start the carrot curry below.

To cook the pancakes, add some olive oil to your non-stick pan then use a soup ladel to pour in your mixture (you’ll figure out the size you want after the first ‘trial’ which is always a good tester for size and taste).
Once bubbles form in the pancake and the edge darkens a little, ease the spatula beneath it and turn.  After the first one your pan usually finds its mojo.
Cover with a cloth or place in a low heat oven whilst you make a total of about 8 small pancakes.

Meanwhile….

The carrot curry:

Heat the oil then add the mustard and cumin seeds. When they start popping add the other spices and stir before frying the chopped onions till they soften.  Then comes the garlic and ginger followed by the diced carrots and water.  Cover and leave to simmer for about 10 mins, adding your chopped chard or greens so they wilt but don’t get cooked to nothing!

Meanwhile….dry roast the coconut in a pan until it just colours then stir it into the carrot-chard mix and season with sea salt and pepper.

To serve, spoon a generous amount onto the pancake base and dollop the mint yoghurt on top.  Add extra mint for decoration (I forgot in this photo!)

Enjoy!