I was brought up by a muesli-mother. She grew, milked and bred most of what was placed before us at meal times and what she couldn’t produce herself, she ordered from a whole food delivery company from where she obtained her muesli by the sack load. My childhood memories are filled with food production. I remember the sight of jam being made in the kitchen. Mum poured stewed fruit into a hammock-like structure made of a sheet of muslin tied between two chairs. The juice from the fruit would drip slowly through the muslin into a bowl. It was delicious. Less fondly I remember the taste of soil in the…