Let’s celebrate the fishermen, the growers and all the suppliers who are helping us to keep going during these tricky times. Let’s encourage the innovators and the entrepreneurs who have adjusted how they work to keep others in business. And together let’s support all those amazing people who have or who will lose their jobs or their livelihoods in the coming months. Let’s encourage them to ask for help, rather than go it alone. Let’s keep talking.

Postscript: Johnny Godden the founder of Flying Fish chose not to furlough all of his team, so that he could find ways to help to keep the Cornish day boat fishermen fishing and able to sell their catch. James Martin celebrated Johnny, let’s celebrate him too.

I never dreamed that there could be a story about saving jobs which combined childhood memories of seafood and the Chelsea Flower Show. Last week was a good week and somehow it reminded me about helping my Dad at his allotment (I’m so pleased that he introduced me to gardening) and his Mum’s (my Gran’s) fish filleting skills. An unusual combination I accept … but that’s me. And here’s how.

The food edit

Baking and gardening are frequently applauded as positive contributors to good mental health. Right now, many of us are turning to the kitchen for inspiration and I’m loving that well-respected chefs and growers are sharing their culinary secrets and ingredient hacks. It’s not only the chefs who are keeping us entertained during lockdown (or whatever it is we’re supposed to call it these days) other small (and enterprising) business owners are grabbing our attention with recipes and food-related content. Thanks to my great friend Annie, I recently signed up to the Pig Hotel newsletter aptly titled, “In The Grow” and it’s packed with growing tips and scrumptious recipes. A fabulous recommendation and a worthy New Forest hotel to add to your “to do” list.

Although I bake, I prefer savoury tarts to their sweeter cousins, and I love seafood. I grew up with fish and seafood, but not in the traditional sense or by the sea. I’m a South London girl and my grandparents both worked part-time in a wet fish shop in West Norwood in their twilight years. I soon learned how to peel little brown shrimps, dissect crabs (claw by claw) and deal with shellfish. There’s not much that comes from the sea that I don’t like although I’ve never got the hang of welks.

Mussels are a particular favourite of mine and James Martin caught my attention recently when he urged his television audience (me included) to buy Cornish mussels to prevent them being thrown into the sea. But don’t they come from the sea? My thoughts entirely, but then I wasn’t in the room for the beginning of the broadcast. I soon caught up as James was recounting the fate of the rope-grown Cornish mussels destined for notable restaurants, including his own. Yet another example of livelihoods in the balance due to Covid-19. And James was keen to support his suppliers.

Spurred on by James’s enthusiasm (and direction), I found the Flying Fish website and the equally enthusiastic Nick, who didn’t seem to mind that I wasn’t James, Tom Kerridge or Paul Ainsworth. I was made up. A great shopping experience, our fish box arrived early last Friday morning and the contents were gleaming examples of Cornwall’s finest – mussels sat proudly among beautifully tailored turbot and monkfish, while John Dory, sole, brill and bass quietly sought our attention as we hastily packed then repacked the refrigerator and made room in the freezer.

The garden edit

Fast forward several hours. With the banana shallots finely chopped and gently melting in warm butter, I added a little garlic and a slug of wine to the pan, before the rinsed and refreshed Cornish mussels to steam in the bubbling sauce. Finished with a little cream, lots of freshly chopped coriander and bread for dunking, this supper was a Friday evening triumph. And it made a fabulous precursor to Gardener’s World – a celebration of roses, delphiniums, peonies and dahlias.

An avid RHS Chelsea Flower Show fan, I enjoyed last week’s archive coverage although yet more examples of the impact (and consequences) of Covid-19 on designers, growers, and horticultural suppliers – even more jobs at risk. My Dad was an RHS lifelong member and local flower show judge. He loved growing medal worthy chrysanthemums and they earned pride of place on his allotment. His horticultural mentor was my Gran’s ancient friend, Mr. Reading. But Mr. Reading also grew dahlias (not my Mum’s favourites) and he always gave me a huge bunch for my Gran and one for my Mum whenever Dad and I saw him at his allotment. Dahlias are an acquired taste and although they have a huge following, I’m still not a great fan.

Right now, I’m celebrating my own small garden success stories and nurturing a single tomato plant on the patio, but I’ll not be going into chutney production just yet.