Sophie Davidson

I grew up by the Thames estuary. The view over the water is of smoking industrial chimneys and power stations. The landscape is flat, muted and grey. The skies are bigger here. The greyness comes from the mud flats and salt marshes. Sometimes you think you’ve found sand but instead it’s lots of broken cockle shells. In the summer the sun heats the mud, which warms the seawater to a perfect wallowing temperature. The estuary is always busy with traffic: people like to watch the freighters pass through on their way to Tilbury docks whilst eating cockles out of polystyrene trays. You have to hold onto the little tray tightly or the wind will blow it away. A pint of cockles sometimes comes in a white plastic bag. I like to slosh lots of malt vinegar and tabasco on them, then plenty of white pepper before giving the bag a hefty shake. When you get fresh oysters from the cockle sheds and eat them whilst sitting on the sea wall, champagne is inappropriate: I have a pint of stout.

Porter mussels

Half pint porter 

Pint of mussels in shell (cleaned) 

Thyme 

Butter

Heat the butter and thyme till melted and nearly brown, add mussels, cook in butter before adding the porter slowly, watching for the mussels to open. Add more butter at the end to thicken the sauce. 

Things that grow along Benfleet creek: apples, pears, damsons, plums, horse radish, sea purslane, samphire, salsify, brambles, hazelnuts, rocket, cherries, roses, fennel, elder, gorse, sweet violets, three cornered leek

Some nice cooking + eating + you time extras: 

Listen to ’oh witch please’ the podcast 

Follow @cocoinmykitchen on instagram 

Watch Peaceful Cuisine on Youtube

Read Clarissa Dickson Wright

Watch Chocolat