Containing my excitement
and a recipe for salmon with a fresh grapefruit basil sauce
I might be the only person I know who’s bought two homes from the outside in.
The first was our 110-year-old wee little dear of a house. There wasn't a whole lot to commend it at first glance. A floral wallpaper-lined foyer cheek by jowl next to the postage-stamp shamrock green kitchen with its brown and blue Mexican tile counter. Bubblegum pink dining room, oxblood red principal bedroom, creaky floors, no main floor powder room, no dishwasher. The smallest house on the street.
But that actually wasn’t my first glance. While Richard and our real estate agent went in the front door that was oddly at the side of the house, I walked around to the back garden and stepped into a Frances Hodgson Burnett storybook.
Putting down roots
You may have read The Secret Garden when you were a child. Written in 1911 by Hodgson Burnett, it’s the story of Mary Lennox, a sickly and unloved 10-year-old girl born in India to wealthy British parents who never wanted her. After being orphaned by a cholera outbreak, Mary is sent to live with her uncle, Archibald Craven, at his gloomy and secluded manor in the Yorkshire moors of England.
Mary begins to change as she explores the estate and discovers a locked, neglected garden that has not been entered in ten years. She becomes determined to bring the garden back to life and, in the process, undergoes a personal transformation.
I may well have been Mary entering that secret garden for the first time. Although I grew up with parents who were ardent gardeners, I never really had a patch of green to call my own. Yet here, in the middle of the city, within a stone’s throw of a busy thoroughfare, was a hidden oasis that was magical. A fragrant mock orange shrub. Gigantic hostas with leaves the size of dinner plates. Delicate Japanese anemones waving their bee-laden faces towards me. Hydrangeas and peonies and ferns. A place full of verdant green energy and possibility.
And I knew that, no matter what lay inside, we had found our home.
Beauty surrounds us, but usually we need to be walking in a garden to know it.
—Rumi, 13th century Persian poet
And so we built a life encircled by green. It gave us joy beyond measure, as each new season brought with it a chance to create something fresh, to replace old tired plants with vibrant new life. As Janet Kilburn Philips said, there are no gardening mistakes, only experiments.
As we tended our garden and watched it grow, I better understood the transformative power of living with nature. A particular moment of beauty might be captured in a swift sweep of cardinal joining his mate on our wooden fence, or the dappled magical light of the setting sun illuminating the giant trees in our neighbour’s yard several houses down. From my treehouse of an office perched on the second floor at the back of the house, I had a front row seat to every change, minute and large, happening beyond my window: the first unfurling of yellow forsythia and crabapple blossoms; a crackling good thunderstorm, a rainbow to follow.
Turning over a new leaf
Back in 2017, we decided that it might be a good time to invest in some real estate, a one bedroom condo, say. That seed of an idea resulted in me visiting a presentation centre for a newly announced condo development, not far from our house.
Let me be clear. The very word condo conjured images in my mind of towering edifices, anonymous facades, beige and grey and white interiors that were only remarkable in their similarity. An arm’s length investment at best.
So that visit was of the perfunctory, business-to-be-done kind. But as I looked at the building model (only nine stories, and what an interesting design!), the neighbourhood (just north of the Annex, no future ugly buildings to block a view, close to where we already lived), the size (a manageable 216 units, a community really), I began to rethink my preconceived notions.
And then I saw the floor plan. In square footage, about the size of our house. But it was the terraces that captured my attention. Nearly 450 of outdoor living space. My inner Mary whispered to me that this might be a new kind of secret garden to play with and in. And in another serendipitous moment, a new home was bought.
Bloom where you’re planted
If life were a linear journey, where we could see the bumps ahead, we’d be able to plan out our lives with precision. But then where would the adventure be?
In the intervening years after that significant purchase, there were construction delays and the small matter of a global pandemic. While that meant we got more time in our beloved first home, it also meant we dug our feet in a bit. That garden tugged at our heartstrings through birdsong and flower.
Six long years later, we found ourselves here. The first few months in our new nest were both exhilarating and emotional. After all, as any gardener knows, it takes time for roots to establish themselves. As the new year rolled around with its promise of spring, we’ve been able to start playing with our new space. It’s baby steps and new pots and figuring out what to do with a full sun container garden.
With a backdrop that makes us feel like we’re looking out over Central Park, the green is layered, luscious and never ending. There is much to do and new joy to be found. Just as Mary discovered, gardens symbolize rebirth and rejuvenation. With every pot planted, my heart is blooming.
Salmon with shallot grapefruit sauce
Ellie Krieger
serves 4
With all the delicious spring produce at hand, dinner feels like it needs to be as light, as fresh. This salmon main ticks all the boxes: it’s super easy, comes together quickly and tastes like a gourmet meal that you can make any night of the week.
Note: if you have a favourite way to grill salmon, by all means use that method here. Richard likes to use a griddle pan on our induction cooktop; the kitchen doesn’t heat up, the salmon cooks even more quickly and cleanup is a breeze.
4 skin on salmon fillets, 5 to 6 ounces each, or one large salmon fillet with skin
¼ teaspoon salt, plus more for seasoning
2 ruby red grapefruits
2 teaspoons olive oil
1 tablespoon minced shallot
1 teaspoon freshly grated ginger
2½ teaspoons honey
Pinch cayenne pepper
2 teaspoons lemon juice
2 tablespoons thinly sliced basil leaves
Heat the oven to 350F or fire up the grill (see head note).
Season the salmon with ¼ teaspoon salt, place in a baking dish and roast until cooked through, about 18 minutes
Prepare the sauce. Start by cutting the ends off one grapefruit, stand it upright, and slice off the peel and pith. Use a paring knife to remove each fruit segment from its membrane and then cut the segments in half. Set these aside. Juice the second grapefruit and set the juice aside as well.
In a medium skillet, heat the oil over a medium heat. Add the shallot and sauté until softened, about 2 minutes. Add the ginger, grapefruit juice, honey, and cayenne pepper and bring to a simmer. Cook until sauce is reduced by about half about 10 minutes. Add lemon juice and season with salt to taste. Let cool slightly.
To serve, put the salmon in a dish with one inch sides. Toss the grapefruit pieces and basil into the sauce and stir to combine. Spoon the sauce over the salmon and serve. Be sure to scoop up the extra sauce into a small dish to serve alongside.