And now no ham?! Ham is one of my favourite foods ever and I now have to restrict myself so it’s an occasional treat? How wretched.
Our first vegetable box*
We took delivery of our first organic vegetable box this week — in it were cherry tomatoes, carrots, an oddly pointy cabbage, round courgette (at least I hope that’s what it is), broccoli, basil, and some fruit. At £11 it ain’t exactly the cheapest, but I’m of the opinion that the quality of the veg is enough to make up for the price comparison with, say, Asda.
For starters, I’ve never tasted carrots as amazing as these IN MY LIFE. As a child I ate carrots (grudgingly) because I was born in the year of the rabbit — seriously. I tried to take to one of Kristen’s favourite snacks, raw baby carrots, but it just wasn’t happening. But these carrots, oh man, they have just the right amount of sweetness when cooked and it’s so fresh I’m not sure I can look at a supermarket carrot ever again.
I took this photo just in case the dish turned out tasty. We’re big fans of pancetta, even though this one was pretty fatty (I like the fat, Neil hates it).
And that’s how it looked at the end. It’s made up of pancetta, carrots, shallots, sweet orange peppers, pointed cabbage and The Indestructible Chives. We added garlic pepper and dried chilli flakes, too. It was pretty decent.
* As opposed to vagetable.
Conch, conch everywhere
One of my favourite Bahamian dishes is conch salad. Basically a ceviche (which I really like and Neil isn’t so keen on), I couldn’t get enough of it. Yum.
Rabbiting
I seem to be more willing to eat vegetarian food at lunchtime rather than at dinner. I have no idea why this is. (I’m trying to eat less meat because I don’t eat enough fruit and vegetables. I’m not going vegetarian on y’all.)
Not that I’d get to eat any
Y’know, I’d really like to bake shortbread one day. Because it’s nummy.
Today I tried something new
It’s called queso de Cabrales, and it’s the strongest cheese I have ever tasted. It makes your mouth hurt.
So of course Neil bought half a wheel of Cabrales for my cousin.
Dinner on a Tuesday
Pasta with garlic, red onion, and Cantabrian anchovies. Shall we say it’s slightly, er, pungent.
An ode to lard
Nothing contributes more joy, satisfaction, high blood pressure, and heart disease than junk food, and none more so than pork rinds (crackling). I’ve never made a secret of my love for the wholly un-nutritious, but the dietary compulsion for Mr Porky is a totally new thing.
Indeed, I have eaten the fried lard one occasionally gets in bowls of mee pok and with guzzlingly gut-busting gusto, and I remember crunching on some crackling off some roast pork back in my uni days (which are growing terrifyingly distant, whaddaya mean I graduated last century?), but deep fried pig fat and skin, dipped in salt? Phwoar.
I’ve been really bad lately, consuming a full bag over a 24-hour period (even my conscience and intestines cannae cope with eating it all in one sitting), at least once a week. I blame Neil, who I allege is trying to mitigate his excessive consumption of Magnum ice creams by deflecting my Singaporean shame rays back at me. He encourages my purchasing of Mr. Porky whenever we’re at the Co-Op — that’s how devious the man is.
The really freaky thing is I don’t even particularly like how pork rinds taste. Like all the people with self-imposed diet and lifestyle problems, I just cannae help it. My brain says, Eat fresh food; but my stomach says, Crisps and soda and pork rinds, please.