I cooked a meal with TVP a couple of nights ago.
I had very little time to cook a meal, so I made a pasta sauce with a tin of sardines in tomato sauce as the protein (it was cheap at Aldi) and then when I put it all together the sauce was a bit watery. That’s when I remembered the pack of TVP I’d bought a month or so ago. I tipped some of it in, it sucked up the liquid, I cooked it for about 10 – 15 minutes, then served it up over pasta.
The verdict? It was slightly chewy, but you couldn’t tell that it wasn’t meat. You need to cook it with other ingredients that add flavour, because it doesn’t have any of its own. Evan4 asked if it was pork mince or something. The kids all ate it, so I’m pleased. It was a cheap, quick and nutritious meal that’ll be handy on those nights when I’m pushed for time. Plus I was uplifted by a feeling of virtue… that I was saving the planet by eating plant based protein instead of mashed up cow. (I’ll ignore the sardines…)
Then we come to the fruiting things in the garden.
The Ballerina apple that David2’s friend planted a couple of weeks ago is making little apples! Which I realise is not all that surprising in itself… it’d be more noteworthy if it started sprouting gorillas or watermelons… but it was very rewarding for Dan. When I told him his face lit up, and he raced out to see it for himself. Thus proving that apples grow on apple trees is not an urban myth. That’s very important for suburban kids to know.
Sick raspberry. I told David2 to put a layer of dirt between the roots of the raspberry and the sheep manure, but would he listen?
Right next to it; a happy raspberry. David2 planted that one too, so I don’t know what the heck is going on…
The black currant is going great guns.
Loganberries, I think. This is sprawling all over the ground. I need to get a lattice and train it up.
When I was inside the veggie patch taking these photos, the gerls were crowding around, hoping that I was weeding so I could feed them worms through the fence. They’ve knocked over the wire surrounding the lemon tree and the poor thing is probably being trampled by arrogant chooks, imperiously calling to me to feed them.
The little ones stayed further back. You can see on Pudgy’s face that her rubber glove is starting to develop. Still a long way to go before they’ll be laying eggs.
Jane, on the other hand, has no qualms about getting up front and personal.