Hello my loves,

Gosh, it really is a gorgeous time of year in Sydney. Spring is here in all her flowering glory, and the whole world feels like a sensory delight. My garden is awash with the scent of lemon blossom and sweet peas, and everything is alive with bees, their panniers packed with pollen as they go industriously about their work. On the streets, grevilleas and bottlebrushes are flowering vividly, and cheeky lorikeets hang jauntily from their blooms, supping on nectar and swinging about. In the botanical gardens, roses are blooming, fat and fragrant with their heady scent. Ah, what a time to be alive!

Last week, a very dear friend alerted me to the concept of ‘awe walks’, which are walks in which you intentionally shift your attention to the infinite small wonders of the world that are all around you, all the time. This resonated so strongly with me. Although not everything around me is beautiful, over the past few years I’ve made a conscious effort to seek and appreciate the things that are, whether they’re tiny slices of nature’s glory that you might not notice if you weren’t looking for them, or the big sweeping showstoppers that take their annual turn (jacaranda season anyone?!). This has brought me a lot of peace, and a lot of joy. Maybe not everything in my day is as great as I’d like. But sweet mother of Mary, the incredible scent of that lemon blossom really does go some way to balancing that. Maybe I do sometimes feel confined by city life, but there, look! My uber-amazing lady gardener neighbour and friend has left free posies of flowers on her gatepost, and I gladly take a bunch as I walk by. Maybe lockdown has been going for what feels like 98 million weeks now, and at this point would be testing the patience of a saint. But god my potted mint is vibrant! The fresh, clean scent it emits from its lush sprigs really is very soothing. The slow march of my scarlett runner beans up their bamboo and string frame brings daily satisfaction, and the sturdy, squat, slowly expanding greenness of my juvenile foxglove plants somehow brings a sense of sureness to my morning. It’s safe to say that it hasn’t been the easiest year and a half to be on planet earth. But not everything has to be perfect to find and take comfort in moments of loveliness. I have personally found that intentionally noticing the slices of beauty that exist all around me has gone a long way to making my experience of the world that much more gentle.

And now, pasta! I realised this morning that it’s been weeks since I shared a recipe with you! This is a lovely, quick, easy one that makes the most of gorgeous lemons, whose season is coming close to ending. It’s inspired by a dish I first enjoyed some years ago at the Eathouse Diner in Redfern. They served piles of steaming spaghetti spiked with lemon, and topped with ruby-red mounds of diced fresh tuna. As you stirred everything through, the heat of the pasta partially cooked the tuna, and the lemony sauce sang its fragrant song. The Diner is no longer there, but my memories of their fresh tuna pasta will stay with me for a lifetime. This is my version, which I made a few weeks ago when I had a swathe of perennial basil gracing the garden. It's probably a bit early for basil in some areas, but you could make this with any soft herb - parsley would be delicious, and I suspect chervil might dance quite nicely also.

Fresh tuna pasta with lemon and chilli

Serves 2

Ingredients
300g super-fresh, sustainably sourced tuna fillets
1/4 cup olive oil
4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1 fresh, long chilli (green or red), thinly sliced
Zest and juice of 2 lemons
A large handful of fresh herbs (basil, parsley, chervil, or any other herb you'd like)
Dried spaghetti for two people
Salt and pepper

Heat the oil, garlic and chilli gently in a large frypan until the garlic starts to sizzle. Turn the heat off and set the pan aside. Finely dice the fresh tuna, drizzle it with a little more olive oil, season well with salt and pepper, and set aside. Put the spaghetti on to cook. While the spaghetti is cooking, add the lemon zest to the oil/garlic/chilli mix, but leave the heat off. When the pasta is ready, turn the heat back on under the oil/garlic/chilli/lemon, then add the cooked spaghetti to the frypan, along with the lemon juice and one or two ladles of the water the pasta cooked in. Add your handful of fresh herbs, and cook everything together for a couple of minutes to reduce the sauce slightly. Pile your sauced pasta equally between two bowls, and top with the fresh tuna. Serve, then stir everything together before eating.

Love, Rachel xxx