The tiny seed from which this beautiful cabbage grew was sown a whopping 350 days ago; making it almost a whole year in the growing.

During that time, I watched as the first signs life, the cotyledons, full of vitamins to set the plant in good stead, emerged from the compost. I saw my tiny cabbage blanketed by snow in the dead of Winter, barely growing in the short days, starved of light and warmth. I saw it wake up in Spring, put on new bright green growth and begin to throw out its beautiful strong leaves. I’ve done battle with slugs on behalf of it, I’ve enclosed it in a calendula fortress in a bid to ward off the unwanted advances of the cabbage whites and finally, I’ve agonised over the perfect moment to end its journey.

Even an anonymous cabbage from the supermarket has a history and a story. Whist they probably reach maturity a lot quicker than my beast, they also don’t spring out of the ground fully formed and probably faced the same sorts of battles with pests and weather that my old friend has. In short, they all deserve to be appreciated in their totality. As such I find it utterly inconceivable that food waste in the UK is estimated at a staggering 3.6 million tonnes a year which is about 7.2% of all the food harvested.

Our relationship with food is broken and I believe can only begin to be fixed by restoring our respect for the toil, time and magic that happens between field and table.

Ps Just in case you’re wondering, the 350 day wait for this beauty to reach my fork was indeed worth it and has, so far, resulted in the best coleslaw I think I’ve ever tasted with lots left for more cabbagey feasts!