Yesterday, feeling nostalgic for somewhat less alarming times, I remembered being a student in Aix-en-Provence, and how I grew fat and happy in 1986, sitting in my blue-shuttered window seat overlooking the second-hand bookshop in rue des Cordeliers , reading anything I could get my hands on, drinking rough local rose and eating mainly walnut baguette with French butter.  (And potato puree – also with French butter!)

This morning, I made a couple of baguettes aux noix, for old times’ sake, and to go with our Dalmatian bean stew (fazol) for supper.   It’s an easy bake;  30 %  leaven, and a blend of white and brown spelt and a little rye, with handfuls of crushed walnuts.   Next time, I’ll add some walnut oil for good measure.   I put the baguettes in couches to prove, then baked them in trays.    We’ve already started eating them….   hope there’s some left for supper.

Oh, and I found time during proving to start fermenting some veg from Ben’s Farm Shop in Yealmpton:  sweet rainbow carrots, tangy baby turnips, taut celery, garlic, fresh ginger and pointy peppers.   Okay, I know it’s not bread, but it’s one more step in the direction of self-reliance  – which, in times like these, we probably all need more than we know.  I’m thinking of building a root cellar as  you read this!