How to infuse rose petal vinegar

And pedantry about fresh green leaves.

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I count myself fortunate in many respects.

That I can walk for no more than two minutes through the grass down the old worn stone steps, centuries old, between ancient oaks, beech and yew to a small wooden gate, behind which a multitude of good things grow is something that I am truly grateful for.

I’d developed a fixation during those decades spent in London, always insisting that when buying vegetables their leaves were in impeccable condition, as that way, I knew that they were harvested most likely within twenty-four hours. My produce mostly came from growers here in the UK or overnight from Rungis market in central Paris, a vast collection of vendors of simply some of the best produce you’ll find anywhere in the world. Again I count my blessings.

Take radishes for instance. I like to use their verdant green, crisp leaves as an ingredient, so the bunches that you see in shops looking tired and mostly dead are just that. I’ve often wondered how the large shops get away with selling crap to everyone and expect us to lap it up, despite their marketing campaigns insisting that they care more and are better than the competition when in fact they’re just the same as the others, happy to shovel out poor quality produce and really it seems they only want your loyalty so you continue to buy more poor quality food and to take your money from you whilst reassuring you that you’re buying the best.

The reason that when you see bunches of beetroot, sitting in baskets, neatly tied by the stems, conveniently missing their leaves, is for a very simple reason. The leaves are dead so they cut them off.