Twelve months of the same view, seen while waiting for water to boil.

The window above my sink is the size of a large tea tray, and it looks out over a slate roof, a slice of harbour and the back of the bakery. I started keeping notes on it last November, mostly by accident, and now I cannot stop.

Winter

Dark by the time the pasta goes in. The bakery light comes on at four in the morning and I have seen it more often than I would like. I cooked a great deal of soup, and I will never again underestimate an onion.

A clear glass jar on a gray table
Stock, most weeks.
Three assorted vegetables
The market on a good Saturday.

Spring

The window opens again, which changes everything. You can hear the boats. Herbs appear on the sill and begin their slow decline. I ate lunch standing there for a week in April simply because the air smelled of rain and bread.

Summer

Too hot to cook, so I did not. Tomatoes, salt, the end of a loaf. The gulls learned the time I eat and began to attend. The harbour changes less than I do, and it is much better about it.

I used to think of the kitchen as the place you go to make food. Now I think of it as the place you go to look out of the window.

The soup I made most this year

Enough for four, or for one person over four days.

  • 2 onions, 3 sticks of celery, 2 carrots, all chopped small
  • 250g brown lentils, rinsed
  • 1 tin of tomatoes
  • 1.5 litres of stock, or water and patience
  • A bay leaf, a lot of black pepper, a spoon of vinegar at the end

Soften the vegetables slowly in olive oil, at least fifteen minutes. Add everything except the vinegar and simmer for forty minutes. Season it properly, then add the vinegar, then taste it again and be surprised.

It is November again. The bakery light is on. The water, as usual, is taking its time.