In the middle of a sunshiny winter’s day, Stefano Manfredi and I went tip-toeing through the veggie patch and rambling among the radishes. Crouching down over the garden bed, you could practically hear the miniature radishes screeching as he wrenched them from the dirt. Pleased with his new-found loot, we sidetracked to the avocado tree, found some more treasures and commented on the need to look after the bees.
Having taken our seats at the long dining table on the veranda with Stefano, there now appeared as the first lunch course, the dressed radishes - with quality oils, sea salt, home-made bread and pristine presentation. We talked Italian traditions as we munched on the golden gems, fresh and simple and pure in a delicately robust taste.
Pairing culinary and literary interests, I pared down the peelings of thoughts from the day and created my own concoction, the poem "The Hors d’oeuvre of Ravishing Radishes". Find it on page 71.