lips as red as sun dried tomato pesto

sun dried tomato pesto

her lips were red.

I mean, full, dark red, just like that sun dried tomato pesto that we were eating. I wondered to myself if there actually WAS a lipstick colour called sun dried tomato pesto or something – that would be funny, you wouldn’t know whether to eat it or wear it!

there’s just a little bit of chilli in there, to give it a bit of heat – can you feel it – I asked her…

I like food that has flavour. This is great focaccia, by the way – soft and lots of taste

she told me. then she continued:

none of this bland stuff they keep feeding me, salads and oil, potatoes and butter, fish and cream. I mean, what is THAT all about?
I can tell you from just one taste what’s going on in this stuff you’ve made, which I’m quite happy to slather over my bread – is IS focaccia, isn’t it?
I can definitely taste pine nuts, toasted, right? There’s olive oil, lemon juice, black pepper, cheese – tastes like Pecorino, am I right? Then there’s the chilli you mentioned, definitely more than a little bit, but just the right amount. And you haven’t used completely dried tomatoes, have you, seems to me to be those soft, fluffy “sun-blushed’ ones

This girl was good. Oh yeah, she was very good! How could she have known all that? I mean, OK, it wasn’t an exclusive recipe, pretty straightforward in a way. I made it regularly enough – throw everything in one of those hand blender attachments, whizz it for a minute or two, season to taste and it’s done. But I’d been making it for a long while and almost felt like it was mine, the taste, the texture, the colour. I could make it with my eyes closed. So how had SHE known what I was doing? continue reading to find out how she knew the recipe

passion fruit date basil halloumi pandemonium

passion fruit pandemonium

after trying it, she didn’t know what to say: such an unexpected treat and so many flavours it seemed she would never be able to recreate the memory of that sunny afternoon in Siberia…

she asked, most respectfully “please, do you think I could possibly have the recipe? I’ve never even heard of halloumi before.
I promise I won’t share your secret”

“There are no secrets”, I whispered.
“There’s no recipe for this, I told her. You just need some halloumi cheese, a frying pan and a spoon!”

a combination of big juicy dates (Medjool if you want to know) Continue Reading

out of the frying pan – recipes for single living

out of the frying pan

The first question came as we sat down in the kitchen for something to eat.

I’d just moved into the ‘new’ apartment and was still trying to figure out where everything was. Fortunately, there was almost nothing, I had my own cutlery, my own salt and pepper mills, even my own little frying pan. Simple is best when travelling

The stove was a simple two hob affair, but enough for cooking at home, maybe even some light ‘entertaining’, but probably not too many dinners, though.

“you live alone, right?” she asked. I knew where this was going, I’d heard it many times before. “you’ve probably done this hundreds of times, all around the world, haven’t you? You must have so many recipes for single living, Im sure of it…”

That word “singleton” made it sound like you were sad, lonely and sometimes ate cat food after midnight when your cat wasn’t watching. I tried to play it smart and cool: “yeah, I’m alone, but never lonely…”

and she has more questions