MyWorldMyLife

There is a special kind of magic in cooking with things you’ve grown yourself, especially when they come from a place as full of heart as the Macmillan allotment. I’ll never forget one particular Saturday morning. After spending time with the wonderful volunteers there, I came home with bags overflowing with crisp asparagus, fragrant herbs, and the brightest greens you’ve ever seen. I wanted to make something that tasted exactly like that sunshine, and that’s how this tart was born. It’s light, flaky, and tastes like a celebration of a really good day. I hope every bite reminds you of fresh starts and community. Ingredients For the tart: 1 sheet ready-rolled puff pastry (chilled) 1 bunch asparagus, trimmed 1 tbsp olive oil 1 ball buffalo mozzarella, torn into pieces pea shoots Fresh or frozen peas Fresh or frozen fava beans 1 egg yolk, mixed with a little water (for egg wash) For the dressing: 3 tbsp olive oil 2 tbsp lemon juice ½ tsp honey ½ tsp Dijon mustard ½ tsp dried oregano Salt ...

Before my cancer diagnosis, I prided myself on my sharp mind. I was the queen of multitasking; organized, efficient, always on top of things. My brain was my superpower. But after chemotherapy, something shifted. Suddenly, that sharpness I had always relied on felt dulled, like my mind was wading through thick fog. I had heard other cancer survivors mention “chemo brain,” but I assumed it was just minor forgetfulness like misplacing keys, forgetting a name here or there. Annoying, sure, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I was wrong. At first, it was little things like walking into a room and forgetting why I was there, losing my train of thought mid-conversation. I brushed it off, telling myself I was just distracted or tired. But then, the mistakes got bigger. I left the oven on. Missed important appointments. Mixed up dates for a hotel booking. Bought cinema tickets for the wrong city. It was frustrating, sometimes even embarrassing. I felt like a stranger in my own mind, never knowing ...