It’s the ruby juice from a ripe strawberry as it runs down my chin. The golden sheen of a smear of butter, so yellow it could only come from grass-fed cows. The pop of elderflower champagne, and the gentle buzz of its fizz in my glass. Earthy, soil-like smell from roasting fresh beetroot in the oven. Steam escaping from a pot of boiled potatoes, filling the room, fogging my glasses and making me smile. “Yum, yum, pig’s bum, cabbage and potatoes.” Sweet gur cake, washed down with strong tea, makes me think of the generations who have eaten it before, and wonder if my children will eat it in the…