Sweden in the winter, before the snow... is what it feels like here in London. It hasn't helped that I've been reading Nordic horror all afternoon, slumped in a favourite reading chair, armed with a cup of tea. Assisting the mood is the rain that has been falling in gray and silver sheets for most of that time. Actually, tell a lie, there was a moment of blue sky when I popped into the garden and saw my first red tomato of the year. A little "ripe tomato" dance ensued.
So, my mood lifted by the cheery red new arrival, I set off into the kitchen for lunch. I was going to repeat the sunny little number I conjured at the weekend, a happy little salad, doing what every good salad should; sparkle and crunch whilst hinting at bitterness deep down. Slivers of grapefruit, pine nuts and a little cumin, tahini and lemon to jack the whole thing up, give it a sense of place, a little history, perhaps conjure some shisha smoke.
Oddly, I was distracted by buckwheat soba noodles with smoked mackerel and spinach, which took me somewhere else entirely. A long way from a rainy, green gray London anyway.
So, my mood lifted by the cheery red new arrival, I set off into the kitchen for lunch. I was going to repeat the sunny little number I conjured at the weekend, a happy little salad, doing what every good salad should; sparkle and crunch whilst hinting at bitterness deep down. Slivers of grapefruit, pine nuts and a little cumin, tahini and lemon to jack the whole thing up, give it a sense of place, a little history, perhaps conjure some shisha smoke.
Oddly, I was distracted by buckwheat soba noodles with smoked mackerel and spinach, which took me somewhere else entirely. A long way from a rainy, green gray London anyway.
2 comments:
Hurry up, summer! It's almost... over!
Congratulations on the red tomato. And that mood-brightening salad.
We'll talk some other time about the soba and mackerel.
Cookie: Thanks! Fo'sure!
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