In the woodland of my mind there is an Acorn. Small, gnarled, and unremarkable. But the power held within know no bounds, you see, this Acorn is where the life of my thoughts is born.

As the seasons shift, I find myself contracting with the land, more introvert and pensive, taking time to nurture the seedling ideas that have been pushed aside in the hedonism of summer.

It is at this time that some of my most stoic thoughts come to fruition, growing into the oaks that I have feared may overshadow my being, stifling the life beneath in lieu of their almighty grandeur.

For me, it’s a time to banish fear and see what might be. We can learn so much when we dare to try.

This shortbread is an acorn in its appearance, unremarkable and bland. Yet, a single bit of its crumbly, cool texture and you realise that its flavour is as mighty as an Oak.

Recipe inspired by Zuza Zak

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