There is definitely something mischievous in the air. I suppose I would be disappointed if there wasn't at this time of year. Just now, for example, I was in my art studio and decided to tighten the lid of my primer pot. The whole lot went everywhere. It looked like the king of the birds had been visiting.
It's been a similar story at the allotment. First of all the strange transformation of the green chair. Then yesterday, I lifted the rather sad garlic specimens to discover they'd changed into spring onions. Then today, I was minding my own business in one of the chairs when a pigeon tried to land on my head.
Today I thought I would treat myself to a bacon sandwich, and would fry the bacon in the griddle we found locked in the ski locker in France. Strange thing to do with a griddle, but after using it all became clear.
It's a sturdy cast iron flat pan with a useful fold in handle. It has a ridged surface to make stripes on beef steaks. I started by frying an allotment grown shallot in it, and all went well. Then I added the bacon, and its true character was revealed. In the manner of a cast iron fiend it shrivelled the bacon into small pieces on contact. I could almost hear it saying 'bah, les Anglais! Du bacon maigre! Horreur!'
It will be very good with steak though, and I think a good old English sausage will be more than a match for it.
No comments:
Post a Comment