“During a recent chat with Fred he asked if I could write him something for the newsletter…well, what could I write? He said something about food or farming. I’ve been out of the food game for a while and we try not to farm too much these days. So what could I write about? Lambing? The thing I think more than anything defines a livestock farmer. If you have sheep you need lambs to sell. I do miss that, the challenge, the buzz, the constant work. We only had 180 at most, not big in this day and age. These days you need 1 or 2 or 3 thousand. But I seriously do miss the lambing time.“ Dominic Smith of Sunnyside Lodges

Last weekend was full of emotions at l’escargot. It is pretty normal in a restaurant to make people happy, and whilst we could see lots of happiness, we could also feel the weight that people had to carry. We got a good sense of how much people have suffered for many months.

Our long-time friend and customer Dorothy writes to us from France.

This week marks week 54 of l’escargot bleu at home. I cannot believe it. What began as a trial (as a means of survival) has turned into a full-time business. I would like to thank you all for helping us to keep our heads above water. This difficult time has made us a lot more conscious to take nothing for granted in life. We should all think about what is happening around us, and do our little daily things to make our lives, and the lives of others, a wee bit better.

“It’s now been 5 years since we set up Strathearn Cheese Co. Having worked for a supplier to the restaurant trade for a number of years, I wanted to set up my own business and be my own boss. I asked my wife for a home cheese making kit one Christmas and so it began. I was so surprised and pleased by the results that I was getting, that the business idea was born. I enrolled Drew, a friend from our Rugby club to join me as a partner. Legend has it that I got him drunk after a game and made him sign the paperwork.” Pierre Leger of Strathearn Cheese

This Sunday I had a fairly long day at Newton Garden. Things that were planted two, four and six weeks ago are now growing well and quite fast. Putting a cosy blanket of thermacrop fleece over all the planters has helped to keep them warm and has kept the birds away. You might remember the picture I shared in a previous newsletter where the mustard leaves looked like skeletons? The protective covering was a good investment that is paying off already.

“I'm sure if you're reading this newsletter you're familiar with the solace that good food can bring, not least in the last year: some uplift and distraction from sadness, boredom, frustration, loneliness. We search a menu seeking something not just to fill us but to fulfil us, to soothe, to satisfy at a level beyond the tastebuds. It's a reminder of the power of food: something that's greater than the sum of its constituent ingredients, or nutrients, or calories. Good food (like Fred's) is more powerful still.” Donald Reid has been Food & Drink Editor at The List for the last 20 years and is also part of the team running the Masters programme in Gastronomy at Queen Margaret University.

I believe food culture and education starts at an early age. I am young (7? or 5? or 9?) and I am on holiday at La Bernerie en Retz with Mamisson, my grand-mother. We are on the beach at low tide and she is bending down with a wooden basket in her left hand and a rake in her right. We are raking for palourde clams. They jump in the basket, and after two handfuls we move over to the rocks further down the beach. My grand-mother Mamisson is very gently lifting the seaweed in the pools of water between the rocks to reveal green crabs as they skuttle away to hide. She pops one in the basket, then another and within half an hour we have successfully picked a good two dozen; worth their weight in gold.

“I have a guilty secret: my mother was a terrible cook. Not just challenged, but a walking bomb scare with the capacity to produce memorably ghoulish creations. Her spam surprise was, well, a surprise to everyone, no matter how many times you were exposed to it. She made curry without spice. And the things she did to roast beef should be illegal. Salt and pepper were strangers to our house.” Richard Bath is the editor of Scottish Field magazine, and former restaurant critic for Scotland on Sunday.

These animals are (almost) wild, living on the tiny island of North Ronaldsay in the Orkney Isles. They have to work hard to survive, feeding themselves mainly on seaweed on the shore, and grass when the tides are high. They are very limited in number, nearly washed off the map but fortunately they survived extinction. Listed on Slow Food’s Ark of Taste register, it wasn’t possible to get hold of them for the last few years, as in order to preserve their status they had to be slaughtered on Orkney, and the main Orkney abattoir closed many months ago.