Mocktails and oats from the garden

 

I’m currently writing this on my Gran’s patio, in her beautiful, messy garden. It’s the start of June and we’ve been house and dog sitting for over 2 weeks now. I’m so grateful to have access to this private green space, it’s such a privilege and one I definitely don’t take for granted. I’ve wanted a garden since my early twenties and sometimes half-joke I’m broody for land, the way other people are broody for kids. The dogs are living their absolute best lives, oscillating between baking themselves in the sunshine and lying panting in the cool shade. Having lived in flats for all my adult life, access to private green space feels like such a luxury.

Part of the reason we’re here is to care for the garden, as much as the house and dog. I’ve been quietly pottering my days away, planting out seedlings, moving rocks, rearranging the greenhouse and endless watering. It’s somewhat frustrating to be managing someone else’s garden, having to deal with a different person’s design aesthetic and organisational choices. But it’s all a learning experience I’m banking for my future green space. The garden is brimming with wildlife and I’ve enjoyed watching the bumblebee nest, the long-tailed tits coming and going from the bird box and the ornithological duo of the crow and the pigeon, who come multiple times a day to a specific bird feeder and work in tandem. The ponds are still full of late tadpoles and pond skaters and the irises are blooming. I’ve got baby basil and thyme in the greenhouse and so much mint, three different varieties I’m tending in various pots.

A white hand holds a clear glass bottle up to a blue sky. The bottle contains a pale green syrup

Which brings me onto the main topic of this post. I’ve wanted to try A Beautiful Mess’ recipe for Simple Syrup for a long time now, but resent buying supermarket herbs. They’re so overpriced, packaged in plastic and often turn to mush before they’re even home (hyperbole but you understand). This time in my Gran’s garden has been the perfect opportunity to take advantage of fresh, home grown herbs.

I’m slowly working towards minimising drinking alcohol and being able to make tasty simple syrup, in a variety of flavours, to mix into various mocktails seems like a real game changer. A Beautiful Mess have a whole archive of mocktail recipes and I’m looking forward to picking some to try this summer.

For this drink, I made a mint simple syrup. I slowly heated equal parts sugar and water, until the sugar had dissolved, along with a large handful of mint leaves. I left the saucepan to cool, with the mint leaves steeping in the sugary liquid. After an hour or so, I drained the solution into a jug and then poured it into a cute glass bottle I found in my Gran’s store cupboard. I love the pale green colour and how it catches the light.

I then muddled (a cocktail term I just learned - it means gently smoosh) a slice of lemon and more mint leaves in the bottom of a glass and added a rough 2 fingers of the simple syrup. I topped it up with an open tonic water my Gran had lurking in her fridge and finished it with a sprig of mint and a slice of lemon. The sharp citrus tang definitely cuts through the sweet mint syrup and it feels fancy enough to replace a gin and tonic any day of the week!

A white hand holds a blue bowl containing pink rhubarb compote

Next up in growing your own food, I harvested some rhubarb. My Grandad, who died back in 2018, loved rhubarb but neither my Gran or I particularly care for it. We didn’t want to dig up the rhubarb plant from which he would harvest every year, so my Gran mostly gives it away to friends. More recently, I can feel myself becoming more open to rhubarb flavours. I had some excellent rhubarb cake recently and my boss gifted me a bottle of rhubarb wine for my birthday, which was surprisingly drinkable.

I’ve wanted to try overnight oats for a while now, and thought a rhubarb compote might be just the way to integrate rhubarb into a relatively healthy recipe. I picked two stalks of rhubarb to begin with, wanting to wait to see if I liked it before I embarked on harvesting it all. I gently heated it with a couple of tablespoons of brown sugar, until it was mushy but still holding some shape. I did the same, minus the sugar, with a couple of slightly sad apples (if you’ve been here a while, you’ll know I love me some apple compote), thinking the sweetness of the apple would counterbalance the tartness of the rhubarb. I then decanted it in layers into these cute Kilner jars, topping the apple and rhubarb layers with dry oatmeal and then pouring Oatley milk over the top. I left them in the fridge to soak overnight and was very pleased with the result the following day! This has definitely jumped straight into my regular recipes in rotation, I love how versatile overnight oats could be and I’m excited to experiment with different combos of flavours.

In the meantime though, I’m glad my Grandad and I can share a love of rhubarb finally.