So when the little one’s soul was screaming for meat, I had to go shopping. And discovered that buying good quality, organic, free range meat is not possible in either of the Duopoly’s chains. Strike One!

Then I hunted out butchers. In the UK these are normally jovial chaps with a real passion for quality meat and making sausages etc. They are artisans, artists of meat. But in Oz I found they were often rude and told outright lies in order to get me to buy their products. Strike Two!

Finally I found a butcher with integrity, who laughed when I told him it was the first time in a butcher’s shop for over 20 years and that I was a vegetarian. The expressions on my face must have been priceless at times as I looked at his wares and listened to his spiel. It was great to find good organic free range chicken, albeit very yellow and skinny so corn fed and maybe marathon runners?

And sourcing goat from him was wonderful. The energy of goat is very clean and pure, nurturing and rich. I never had a problem working with it in the kitchen while other meats made me gag. And goat stew in Autumn and winter is just so wonderful, rich, flavoursome and full of goodness.

It was hard at first, to handle and cook dead animals. But most Mothers will do anything for their children, and despite my ingrained belief at the time that I was a bad Mother, my willingness to forsake all my beliefs for my son speaks to the contrary!

And the more my son ate, as he transitioned from milk and purees, the more interested and involved I became in food – where it came from, what was in it, who grew it and with what energy, intention and chemicals involved.

We ate better as a result. Our diets became more varied, diverse and rich. I learned to bake (and let me tell you I was the worst – I have burned more cakes than you have ever eaten!) and good food became a passion. I always say our children come to heal us and Ben healed my food issues and opened me up to just how nurturing and delightful food can be.

I sourced the best, in bulk – stocked up the pantry and freezers with home cooked and home grown produce with all the goodness intact. As friends and woofers came to stay they praised my food and started dialogues and journeys of consciousness around food that sparked the idea of sharing good food on a wider basis . . . one day . . .