Welcome to March
When I was a teenager and dangerously armed with a student loan, living in a city for the first time, I spent any spare cash I had on ingredients. I had my first taste of belly of lamb on recommendation from Cardiff Central Market’s friendly butcher – “slow cook it, love, with tomatoes and herbs”. I attempted homemade Welsh cakes. I ate Findus Crispy Pancakes and potato waffles, regularly, in rebellion after having been fed (ungratefully) only meals cooked from scratch by mum for the previous two decades. My version of shopping frugally, though, was to buy cheap meat and fish – fatty, chewy mince, flabby farmed salmon fillets, and bland (to my shame) cage-farmed chicken wings and drumsticks. I didn’t know or understand about provenance or sustainability. I didn’t realise meals…