Cutting the mint has made the covetous harvest process enter my consciousness in such a way I today couldn’t help but savor violently trimming down the precious overgrowth of the vine that recently started to engulf the facade of Les Pierres’ cottage, not only because the already formed grapes could do with a bit more sun, as we all so obviously feel a similar need for, enough accountability I’d say, but I really relish putting at least one jar of its leaves fermenting away in our pantry for summer to surprise unforeseen guests with, filled savory or sweet or, when I do find the time, patience and temperance to not delve into them sooner, let my natural cheeses mature in their protective probiotic skin.
Experience makes up for at least half of all effort, says this braggart, and all else is puffed pretense, but oh my, does it taste good.
