

We’ve reached late February: almost the end of meteorological winter (although in astronomical terms it will run until the spring equinox on 20 March). In Paris it starts to grow milder; it is still cold, but the air has lost some of its bite as the harshest phase of winter has hopefully passed.
I have learnt, though, that one never quite knows the day or the hour upon which spring will arrive: some years it comes gradually, some all at once, and sometimes the seasons parry back and forth in a complex dance which plays out over weeks or months.
Each year I enjoy watching out for the early signs of spring, like a watchman looks out for the dawn after a long dark night, and am rewarded in that first moment of the year when, turning one’s face to the sun, there is genuine warmth in its glow for the first time. Or when the setting sun casts Paris’ architecture in a soft, golden glow on the first clear-skied spring day and sets the Seine to sparkling. Outside the city, I love to see the woodlands carpeted with snowdrops, as they are now, and the gardens of the country homes I pass overflowing with purple and yellow crocuses.


At the same time, I’m savouring the dark nights spent wrapped in blankets and soaking in bubble baths, not knowing how much longer I shall have them. My habits are highly seasonal and I welcome the rest and seclusion of winter.
That is the beauty of the transitional seasons, though: they feel like liminal spaces, at once hopeful and reflective. Cautious, uncertain, transient, and yet as sure and as steady and as old as the earth itself. A reminder that there is a rhythm to life, a season for all things, and that all things must eventually pass and be made new.
What I ate in February






February has been bitterly cold at times, often not rising much above freezing in Paris, although it has been milder in recent days. Hearty foods have therefore been on heavy rotation, as have vitamin C-rich foods, given the aggressive form of la grippe that seems to have taken out most of the city in the past few weeks (thankfully it’s citrus season). More specifically, I’ve been eating:
Root vegetables: turnips, carrots, swedes, beetroots, etc. - in hearty stews, in warm salads, roasted as sides, anything and everything.
Sweet potatoes: in this sweet potato chili, which is a go-to for me, or roasted in big wedges with spices.
Citrus: clementines, blood oranges, grapefruits, and of course my Seville orange marmalade
Crepes and pancakes: since the French eat them on Candlemas
Kale: no particular explanation other than that my local farm shop has it in abundance at the moment and I really like it in salads, stews and pasta dishes
Chocolate: in literally all forms. It has been the season for it, after all. I drink this hot chocolate (with or without vegan marshmallows) on a regular basis in the evenings and drink it out at local cafes and coffee shops on Sunday afternoons while catching up with friends. I’ve been eating chocolate flan from my local vegan bakery. I’ve been making lots of chocolate bark. And I’ve also just been eating regular old dark chocolate.
What I’ll be looking out for in March




St David’s Day, 1 March: I am not Welsh but I always enjoy the opportunity to make Welsh cakes or another Welsh treat on their national day — this year I might try Gaz Oakley’s vegan rarebit (and also look out for some daffodils to adorn my home)
Shrove Tuesday, 4 March: another opportunity for pancakes!
St Patrick’s Day, 17 March: an opportunity to bake soda bread or, in the more American tradition, bake basically anything with a green element (matcha, pistachio, mint, etc.)
Spring equinox, 20 March, and beyond: spring arrives in earnest in late March and that tends to be around the time that I start to see early spring produce in the farm shops and markets, marking a clear shift into a new eating season.
Mothers’ Day, 30 March: for those who will be cooking for their mothers, it’s a nice occasion for some early spring baking (e.g. this carrot cake)
Less universal, but my birthday also falls in March, and I feel like making a huge, rich, many-layered, ganache-filled chocolate cake this year. TBD.
If you have any other suggestions for transitional recipes, I’d love to hear them!
ohhh the appeal of citrus fruits in the winter months. That scent of orange or clementine peel - so cosy and comforting.
I too am looking forward to Welsh Cakes! I am not Welsh either, but spent some happy years in Cardiff in my early twenties.
Also pancakes and Mother's Day Carrot Cake, oh yes!