Last updated 20:19, Thursday, 23 October 2008

THIS week I have been mostly thinking about food (as I do every week).

As the weekend looms, thoughts turn deliciously towards planning the menus for the two-day break.

During the week, with work and school, although we cook from scratch each night (like we’re told to by our good food gurus), it’s always easy and quick dishes. But at the weekend . . . I can indulge!

We travel all over the world at the weekend (culinarily, that is), much to the horror of the poor souls in the house who are not always keen on my exotic forays and then have to wash up afterwards.

I once told a workmate that I cooked a different meal every night; he was rightly shocked, but that was then. Work and babies tend to get in the way somehow.

Cooking now seems to be an essential element of being a “domestic goddess” (move over, feather dusters and tins of polish). It’s thanks to the many chefs and food writers who have brought proper, home-made food back as a priority in our busy lives.

I can only applaud Jamie Oliver’s ardent attempts to revolutionise kids’ eating but am horrified on a daily basis at some of the dreadful things they still eat in the school canteen; one lunch box I saw was stuffed with just crisps and chocolate bars.

For me, it’s this time of year that’s my favourite for produce. Although I love summer’s new potatoes, strawbs and rasperries, asparagus and peas, there’s nothing quite like autumn’s harvest for sheer variety and pleasure. I love the jewelled pomegranates, glowing pumpkins and plums, shiny chestnuts, red cabbage and apples: the garnering of autumn’s store.

Of course, we now also have to be careful what we buy, as we might be clocking up all those dreaded food miles on imported goods. But it’s a dilemma: does occasional purchasing of these naughty foods sometimes help farmers in less wealthy countries? I’m never quite sure what’s the right thing to do.

It’s a real autumnal treat to drive around some of our region’s quieter lanes to search out obscure bushes laden with gleaming blackberries which stain fingers purply-red and fill the kitchen with their sweetly pungent jammy fragrance. It’s definitely the season of Keats’ “mellow fruitfulness”.

But back to the weekend food. We were supposed to be having the last of the garden’s mint supply to accompany a leg of roast lamb three weeks ago, but the herb is still blooming, so it’s roast lamb: one meal down.

So, shall I serve my unwitting family a nice plate of pumpkin and sage risotto or wilted red cabbage with chestnuts and apple? Somehow, I think they’d prefer to head for the nearest chippy instead.