1 APRICITY = ‘the warmth of the sun in winter.’ Standing still for a minute, face upturned to the low January rays. Feeling the heat, amplified through a south-facing window, transfer a flushed reddish tinge. There are few better pleasures at this time of year. I learned the word — such a perfect word, apricity — some years ago and it caused me to notice. The remarkable power of language.
2 SEVILLE ORANGES occupy January minds in Britain as asparagus transfixes Germany in May. I, too, cannot resist the temptation, and already I have simmered, slivered, weighed, and reboiled a couple of kilos to make marmalade, regardless of last year’s jars still weighing the shelves. I have also steeped orange zest in vodka with spices, in view of these Seville orange bitters in a couple of weeks. In the past I’ve made another one of Mark Diacono’s concoction, Seville orange and cardamom gin, which you can imagine makes an amazing gin and tonic. And the best slow-release promise of Seville orange season, vin d’orange which takes a little patience and no effort at all, still awaits.
3 Rather than relentlessly wilting cut flowers, I’ve created a small KITCHEN GARDEN of bulbs as a way to cheat winter, for now.
4 The SPICED OKRA MARTINI at Chishuru was mentioned so regularly, in each rave review of the restaurant, that it began to feel a little like copy and paste. I don’t love martinis but curiosity won of course, and we timidly ordered just one for the table, to taste. It took only one sip, I immediately asked for another, just for me. It is every bit as extraordinary as everyone says. Surprisingly savoury and complex, satiating like a dish in itself. It is also just as strong. The rest of the meal was equally wonderful, with a special mention for the Sinasir, fermented rice cake with mushrooms, which has to be one of the best things I will eat all year (alongside the Okra martini).
5 In the first days of January, somewhere amid the eating and puzzle-ing and dismal skies, we took the family on one of our favourite WALKS THROUGH LONDON, a wander from the City via Bank to the Roman Amphitheatre in Guildhall, St Paul’s Cathedral and across the Thames to Tate, where we saw the remarkable exhibition A World in Common : Contemporary African Photography, which I am not actually mentioning since it has now closed.
6. We went to DILARA, a Uyghur restaurant which happens to be just down the road, with a group of friends. It was our barely belated climbers’ Christmas party. One of our friends ordered the array of Uyghur dishes (the menu also features more Turkish-inflected options) — meat dumplings, Big Plate Chicken, Big Plate Lamb, an egg and tomato dish, square slippery noodles, cucumber salad, kebabs, meat pie — which we accompanied by many cans of Wusu beer grabbed from a self-service fridge. It was very fun and outrageously good, and I’ll have to figure out a way to identify those dishes on the menu, for next time.
7. Our dank, North-facing garden receives no sunshine at all for half of the year, and in deepest January I abandon it entirely to the foxes. But one frostbitten morning I ventured out, armed with a pair of beautiful Japanese secateurs which I received a couple of birthdays ago, and finally dared to give the timidly resurrected rosebushes a decisive PRUNING. A step toward the spring!
I love January, regardless of what anyone says.
This is my favourite missive on January. It certainly rehabilitates the image of a month that so many like to dislike. It is also a reminder to jar some sunshine. I shall be off to get some sevilles.