 |
| Window #3 |
What could be better than homemade bread on another cold blustery day in London. This is a spelt loaf made in an attempt to use up numbers of grains in storage jars that have probably passed their sell-by date, but chucking them seems sinful in a commodity bubble universe. Eaten for dinner with some French artisan butter studded with chunks of salt from Ile de Ré that Bob bought at Borough Market and some smoked goat cheese from a farmer's market, along with a cup of mushroom soup from Marks and Spencer (no artificial ingredients, no preservatives, on special, two soups for £3 — the cauliflower cheese soup was excellent too). Thank heavens to be back in the land of real food.
Bob made it home from Paris just as I was slicing the warm bread, so he got dinner too. The Eurostar is suffering from the weather along with every other transport system, half the trains cancelled, including Bob's, but he managed to get a seat on another train. Mick Jagger also got a seat on the same train. Bob saw him on the platform being led by security staff to a First Class carriage, and says he looks really really old. The journey took hours extra, but at least they aren't stranded in either the tunnel or a snowdrift in Kent.
No comments:
Post a Comment