I hate February. Basically, it’s a month longer than I’m prepared to tolerate of bone-chilling, icy winds and strength-sapping seasonal motionlessness. Of course, the February effect is largely psychological, because the weather is often much better than in March – when it usually rains a lot more and blows a lot more.

The eating qualities of hare have long been celebrated, and there is still a regular market to supply those in the know. Good butchers may keep them in stock, but to be sure of getting one you should order it a few days in advance.

The price of a hare may vary considerably according to local availability but they are rarely expensive, and a large one will feed six greedy people. You may get a better price from a game dealer, and better still from a gamekeeper (you should get them for a knockdown price from a keeper just after a hare shoot).

The hunting of hares by almost any method is becoming controversial. Some conservationists maintain that hares are in great decline and should be protected. Many farmers, on the other hand, claim to be overrun with them. The truth is that both parties probably have a point: the distribution of hares in this country is very uneven. Hares are not strictly classed as game, and do not benefit from a close season as such. But they do enjoy partial protection, in that it is not permitted to ‘offer a hare for sale’ from the end of March to the beginning of August. This is when they are rearing their young and, given the concern that has been expressed about numbers in some areas, I think it is appropriate that they should be considered off-limits during these months.

Brown crabs are at their best from January to April and are fished in vast numbers in British waters. They do not enjoy the same culinary status as lobsters but only, I suspect, because of the relatively portionable meatiness of the lobster’s fat tail. Being a great fan of the brown meat, which others scorn, if anything I prefer crabs. Despite the massive quantities in which brown crabs are taken from our coastal waters, they seem to remain plentiful, and therefore relatively cheap. The best and cheapest way to buy them is alive and intact – preferably still waving their claws defiantly at you and blowing indignant bubbles. You can buy crabs ready boiled, or boiled and dressed, but why pay the fishmonger to cook and dress them for you when it is so easy, and satisfying, to do it yourself? In my experience, a lot of fishmongers tend to overboil their crabs anyway. Never buy an uncooked dead crab; the flesh deteriorates within hours, and they are likely to be tainted in flavour, if not a positive health hazard.

If you regularly receive an organic vegetable box, you may well be wondering how on earth you are going to use up yet more winter greens – a mainstay of box schemes at this time of year, when practically everything else is in short supply. One of my favourite ways of dealing with them, and one that particularly appeals to children, is to turn them into crispy Chinese ‘seaweed’. This delicious and ubiquitous Oriental dish isn’t really seaweed at all. Instead it’s made with any of a number of leafy greens. I have experimented with kale, winter greens and Brussels tops and found that they all lent themselves to this treatment. You can also use the outer leaves of green cabbage. Trim out the coarse central stems, then wash and pat dry the leaves. Tightly roll up a bunch of leaves like a fat cigar, then shred them as finely as you possibly can – maximum 2mm per shred! Deep-fry them, a small handful at a time, in sunflower or groundnut oil and remove with a draining basket after just 15–30 seconds, by which time they should be completely crisp (if they’re not, the oil needs to be hotter). Pile them up like a bird’s nest on a warm plate. Traditionally crispy seaweed is served with a sprinkling of grated dried scallop, which you can find at most Oriental supermarkets. But a scattering of toasted sesame seeds and a good shake of soy sauce make an excellent alternative. Eat straight away, with chopsticks.

Forced rhubarb has been in the shops for several weeks now, and will keep rhubarb fans going until April, when the outdoor cultivated version comes into season. Rhubarb isn’t really a fruit at all but a herbaceous plant. Nevertheless, its stems, when cooked, have such a distinctly fruity taste (being very close to gooseberries in flavour) that it has come to be thought of almost exclusively as a dessert plant. Actually, a sieved compote of rhubarb, sweetened only slightly, makes an excellent sauce for oily fish such as herring and mackerel.