Southern Rock

My mum has always sworn by Northern Rock, saying you couldn’t get a safer investment. It’s a family truism that they’re the best folks to take care of your dosh – I inherited a handful of shares (now almost worthless) from my Grandad and have always had my saving account with them. I wonder how far our collective faith in this company has been due to its name – ‘Northern’ implying no-nonsense, sensible, honest – ‘Rock’ denoting safe, reliable – rather than any objective judgement of their financial acumen.

So now a pillar of my inherited wisdom has been removed, it’s a good time to celebrate those certainties which are left – of which one is surely the Riverford veg box. If you order it, it will come; and it will be good. A Southern Rock. This week’s small box was particularly pleasing aesthetically – a still-life cornucopia of vegetable matter, including…

• a bunch of young turnips, with tops
• a bunch of small, stubby carrots
• a butternut squash
• a bag of Maris Peer tatties
• a bag of onions
• sweet peppers – two green, one yellow
• a pointy cabbage

So I could spend all day down my local NR branch, queueing for my savings, or I could stay at home, pull out my most trusted cook books and plan a fitting end for these fine specimens of vegetablehood.