Early this week, in need of sustenance but not abstinence I considered my options. I’m home alone, save for the pooch who struts in and out of the doors that are thrown wide open in the heat…she is torturing the neighbours again and I am losing patience. It’s that time of year when my love’s work overwhelms our life in that he is indefinitely absent. What I really needed was some supper plus some lunch to take to work the next day and with any luck the day after…maxi impact with mini effort…just for me and me alone. Continue reading All for one
I’ve been having an extremely odd time lately, and last week I was unwell again (not seriously so) but last weekend I was in great need of cheering up. Usually comfort food for me might be of the stodgier variety but it was hot…man it was hot and I yearned for a Mediterranean beach, with seafood. Being at home and watching re-runs of Rick Stein on a loop had not helped this longing and let’s just say, I won’t be jetting off anytime soon so… it was one of those times when The Med needed to come to South London. Continue reading Beneath a Cerulean Sky
You would think that having a broken ankle would afford you time to sit and stare, that being incapacitated prevents some things but increases time for others, like catching up with friends or writing a blog? Continue reading Spicy store cupboard supper
Grazing on ‘picky’ food is absolutely my favourite way of eating. It’s possible this stems from Sunday tea when I was a child, not being a character that enjoyed the rituals of 1970’s mealtimes or what they had to offer…I did love Sunday tea. This would be a selection of small plates of seafood, some salads, a little bread a little cheese and so on… or on occasion it would be some nice ham, and celery, always celery. Continue reading Meanwhile in London…
Postcards from the Pyrenees, encore.
Driving up the winding lane, alongside the fields that will soon burst with maize and sunflowers, I’m struck by the variety of livestock in our small village. A gathering of 250 inhabitants and a myriad of small farms, in every other home the obligatory well-tended kitchen garden. There are cows, sheep, ducks, pigs, chickens, guinea fowl, geese (of course, we are in Gascony after all) and goats – well they are the ones I have seen anyway, there may well be others! Continue reading Meadows and Pastures
Postcards from the Pyrenees…again
The Mountains form a natural border between France and Spain, but more than that they traverse the historical regions with their distinctive traditions, culinary and otherwise. To the west on both sides of the peaks is the Basque country, wonderful people who are rightly proud of their traditions, food studded with Pimentón, and an incomprehensible language with lots of X’s and J’s. From the beautiful Atlantic towns to the tiny coves that pepper the northern coastline, semi-sparkling crisp white wines like Txacoli (you see, it is unpronounceable but very drinkable!) and dishes that ooze with the warmth of spiced sausage alongside classics such as bacalao (salt cod). Continue reading The borderlands
More postcards from the Pyrenees
I have an interesting relationship with Oysters, in that I love them but I am allergic to them. My enjoyment these days being derived vicariously, beside my love.
As he pops the shells open to receive the milky pearlessence within, my mouth waters, for I know the ozone freshness there. Continue reading Mers et Montagnes