Chutney

Written and recorded by Muriel Murch with WSM by my side.

‘So you did it twice,” said a very young Beatrice when she was reckoning up the presence of herself and her brother and checking her new information of where babies came from. I kept a pretty straight face as I replied, “Yes. We did. Twice.” This was not the time to elaborate, as I was driving the thirteen turns stretch of Highway One on our way home and, again, we were late for something. “Yes we did it twice.”

Another thing that we have done twice is Walter directing me in a production reading. Many years ago I booked an evening studio session at KPFA Pacifica for the recording of Herman Hesse’s story “Old Music”. I was somehow committed and compelled to read this story. In hind-sight it was more suited to a male voice, but I so loved the story of Hesse’s journey from his cottage in the forest to the cathedral in the city that I was determined to do it and, for the first time, asked Walter to guide me thought the reading. I was nervous, hoping that we did not dissolve into an altercation in public. I need not have worried, Walter was professional and kind, gentle but firm and I relaxed as he led me through the story. We added some Bach, such as Hesse might have heard in the cathedral to the end of it and – even if I say so myself – it aired well.

A tidier picture of team Murch at work. Photo by Taghi Amirani

This summer we did it again. Mostly here in London, as Walter held my less-than-best microphone while correcting my still hopeless dyslexic stumbles over long words and names. My voice and I are old, and with no true acting training we worked in short bursts. Granny Smith apples or big juicy grapes are said to help with such sessions but for me it was to be hard apple cider and honey which got me through, and was more than appropriate given that we were recording my book ‘Harvesting History While Farming the Flats.’ I took two editorial passes though each chapter before handing the tracks over to beloved Jim Mckee who cleaned me up some more. The result is a 9 hour and 6 minute book on audible.com. There is a little teaser – in the video.

The video clip on my website is a little taste tease.

After my husband delivered a lecture to a group of Danish Film makers and students Philip calls out, “The last question please,” and a young man stands up.

“Mr. Murch, with your work schedule and the traveling how do you manage a home life?” then he sits down. Suddenly there is a deeper quiet in the room. Philip nods and raises his eyebrows, which always look striking with his large, round, smooth bald head. He nods as if to say, “yes this is a good question” and looks over at Walter. Walter paused, not rushing, as he can, to answer with overflowing ideas. Then he responded.

“Truth be told I don’t. I am often on a project for a year, maybe longer, sometimes eighteen months, even two years – and in that time I may not know where I will be six weeks ahead. You will have to ask Aggie that question.” He smiles and looks up briefly before Philip calls out, “Lunch. We will reconvene in an hour.”

This book is my answer

Through some digital magic you can also switch between reading on your Kindle and listening to the audio. Pretty cool for an old lady.

The summer is fading now, the harvests are in. The Gods in Heaven have swept up three American jewels who spread good news, and good trouble across this good earth. We who are left are saddened by their passing. I think of them, Dolly Parton, Wendell Berry and Gloria Steinem who have no need to linger – their work well done and their torchlight handed on to those of us who are finishing what we can of our work in the world.

And it is time to make chutney again. We harvested six green tomatoes from the one plant that survived the heatwaves of this summer. Our neighbor props a sign, ‘Free but don’t take them all’ on a box of Bramley Apples she brought from her home in the country. Tony at the market – he of the best and sweetest small strawberries – hands over a punnet of Victoria and Damson plums, Pete’s onions are small but good and into the big pot with all sorts of secrets they go. A day later there are nine jars filled with dark rich savory fruit sitting on the counter.

Nine jars of Chutney cooling on the counter.

I look at the jars and think of the words that Wendell Berry let me share in Harvesting History, and hope that even in this autumnal urban time of our lives we can remember that

The soil is the great connector of lives, the source and destination of all. It is the healer and restorer and resurrector, by which disease passes into health, age into youth, death into life. Without proper care for it we can have no community, because without proper care for it we can have no life. – Quote from Wendell Berry with kind permission from Wendell Berry

This has been A Letter From. A Broad Written and read for you by Muriel Murch with WSM by my side and as always supported by Beatrice from MurchStudio. And the video? Taken by Taghi Amarani and then tucked up together by WSM

Written and produced by Muriel Murch with WSM by

It is a sunny autumn morning when I sit outside of Le Tea Cosy cafe, sipping a flat white and chatting with a friend when first two, then three, followed by two more police men and women saunter by. I laugh to them, “Seven of you”. And the slightly older – but still so young – as policemen have been for years – smiles back “Yes, young recruits on training exercises.” He could have been talking about trotting out young cavalry horses in Hyde Park, but no, this is rookies on the beat walking around Primrose Hill and into the village on a sunny mid-week midday, and is a very different scene from what they could encounter on a Saturday night down by the locks in Camden Town. Their young faces look sweet, both hopeful and nervous of what lies ahead for them all.

Chris Kaba – photo courtesy of his family

For by now they know that the news is full of the charge of murder by an armed police officer with a single gunshot to the head of Chris Kaba last September in South East London. Chris was a construction worker and a rapper under the name of Madix with the group called 67. Reportedly he was not a man without flaws but with his impending fatherhood that could have been about to change.

The firearm officer charged with Chris’s murder is only named as NX121. Rallies led by Chris’ mother and family were held asking for an investigation. Here we go again and we hope that Steven Lawrence’s parents are helping her. Home Secretary Minister Suella Braverman – she of the floating barges and Rwanda deportation plans for immigrants – assures the police that they have her full backing. But what does that mean? Now – for a moment – there is a pause. Close to one hundred bobbies-on-the-beat, a little older than those rookies walking the pavements of Primly Hill, are handing in their guns. Reflecting on what they think ‘could have happened on that street in Streatham Hill’ and want no part of it. They don’t trust Suella Braverman to have their backs and maybe – for a solitary moment – they don’t trust themselves and want no part of killing another man – when – on a Saturday night off they might be dancing to the music of 67. Further assurances are made by Braverman, and the Met Police force floats the idea of bringing in the army to do a Policeman’s work, leaving these young officers churning again in confusion and mistrust.

Chris’s family, along with the police, are not alone in their mistrust of the government. This next weekend the Conservatives are holding their Annual Party Conference in Manchester. Which is a bit rude – to put it mildly – where the main item on the agenda is the closing down of the continued construction of the High-speed Rail link that travels from London to Birmingham and is scheduled to go on to Manchester. The South/North divide is strong in England, and Andy Burnham the major of Greater Manchester sees this move for what it is. Like a true northerner he is able to speak his mind.

Come to think of it that maybe the most characteristic difference between the north and south in England. Northerners don’t mess around, calling a spade a spade while southerners can relish moving words and phrases around as if playing the ‘follow the ace’ card game again and again. For Sunak, to make the decision to scrap this link is pretty abrasive. Grant Shapps who was transport secretary until last month and who moves through Cabinet secretary positions with the lighting speed of those fast trains he wants to halt, says it would be “crazy” not to reassess whether the full HS2 rail project remains viable. One of the far reaching goals for High Speed rail – such as exists in Europe and Japan – let’s not speak of Europe – was that it would enable business men and women from the north to travel to London or even – steady on – to Paris, Brussels and Amsterdam – for face-to-face meetings thereby giving the North of England a better shot of doing business within Europe. But ministers in Westminster are determined to keep the power close to the south and this train vasectomy would do that. With a change of government this little snip could be reversed but that is no certainty.

Meanwhile – thinking forward in fellowship – King Charles and Queen Camilla were invited to Paris for a three-day state visit complete with dinner for 150 guests in the Hall of Mirrors at the Palace of Versailles. When invited to dinner some people bring wine, flowers or chocolate. But the King and Queen brought Sir Mick Jagger and England’s still favorite handsome man, Hugh Grant. The guest list was drawn from French and English men and women who continually contribute to good relations between the two countries, so often found easily within the arts and sports. The fact that both French and English cheeses were on the menu says a great deal for the warmth that was brought to the table. One wonders who sat next to whom and we can only hope that everyone remembered their table manners and used their silverware from the outside in. Fellowship was ever present and as the wind ushered their entrance to the palace Mme Macron helped the Queen with her cloak. Of course there were speeches – the President and the King both speaking in each other’s language. During the three-day visit there was the obligatory tree planting, remembrances of past Royal visits to Paris, then the wives played a little table tennis at a sports center, both showing their need for more practice and a first – as King Charles spoke in French to the French senate. It was a good visit with gentle words and gracious kindness on both sides.

Queen Camila, King Charles, President and Madam Marcon before dinner

As the equinox came and went the evenings were closing in. The green tomatoes were harvested from the library garden and our little terrace and there was just enough to make the starter layer of chutney. I look to see what we have and what should I add? In the local greengrocers there are fresh onions and the first Bramley apples, while on the counter is a box of no longer sellable fruit. Ladies of a certain age know not to waste and so half a dozen soft and wrinkly, old lady peaches went into my bag and then the chutney. Delia Smith has two recipes in her book but chutney is not for recipes, it is for bountiful harvests, leftovers and sweetness so I jumble the recipes up – remembering a little of this instead of that works – and there it cooked happily on the stove. Now it is in jars to wait – if it can – for the flavors to lie together and emerge anew.