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MARTINA’S KITCHEN

After you receive that warm welcome on entering the Kitchen something special happens not sure exactly what but you insanely know it’s a good place to be and as she busies herself you realise that this kitchen and everything is uniquely an extension of herself, every item carefully chosen while on holiday or sought out beautiful bowls of difference shape and sizes tactile and smooth positioned and place and always used every item earns its right to be here and if you were to add to that collection by way of present you would find it would be used in Martian’s unique way and not always for the purpose in which it’s was produced like the pale blue jug with hand painted crimson flowers that I purchased is filled with crimson rose buds from her garden like a painting stands centre stage on her dresser which is filled with mostly antique and only all white porcelain handed down from Grandmother mother and many sourced by us both on many a fun day in Dublin in brick a bract and antique shops followed by a nice little luncheon and always with a good bottle of wine in fact when times for good chat and laughter was much in need outings were invented to go in search of must needed white dishes for the dresser so much so it is now with a laugh and a smile Martina’s partner will utter “ you two off to find more white junk for the dresser” and looking at the collection I laugh to myself of the memory of such finds but a story for another day. As I bring myself back to the task at hand I glance at my good friend and I admire her ability to put together and outfit that is uniquely her with the glasses perched on her nose I joke that she could give Elton John a run for his money and that if she every sought laser eye treatment the she would deny us the pleasure of admiring these wonderful fines colourful wild and quirky depending on her mood and place to go.
I look at the table and small bowl are assembled filled with ingredients measured within an inch of their life only to be placed in one of the exquisite bowl finds and as I raise a brow she says “ the dough sits better in this bowl it keeps it cooler “ and as I raise by brow a little higher she gasps and says “ ok it makes me feel good to use it you can of course use any bowl and just have the same results” I disagree I know that this bread will be make with such passion and attention that I will feel it with every bit and I’m not really paying attention as to what ingredients are being used I can only see the method in which she applies herself in the making art in its self. So as it is place in the carefully lined baking tins and placed in the oven we make our way to the garden which is directly off the kitchen and you are instantly surprised how much produce in the way of fruit and vegetables are grown in this small but perfectly formed garden among the plants and flowers and as she carries the beautiful hand woven basket you know it was also chosen with care she carefully places salad leaves of various kind basil and some delicious cherry tomatoes which is grown in hanging baskets we make our way back to the kitchen the smell of baking bread I am suddenly feeling hungry.
A loaf is taken from the cupboard one make early she laughs and explains the bread is best when it sit for a few hours before especially for this snack she is going to prepare, generous slices are cut rubbed with a clove of garlic drizzled with olive oil and I am told where the best olive oil in her opinion can be found imported from Italy the same for the delicious goats cheese Irish of course. Basil leaves are torn and placed beneath the goats cheese scatting of halved cherry tomatoes and olives more drizzle of olive oil placed under the grill as we carry her best glasses beautiful folded napkins to the garden and as we sit with the sun shining the smell of lavender I take a bit a haven you could be anywhere but I think not Martina’s kitchen is a sweet spot of the universe.