It’s a flat cleaning day today. I’m knee deep in dusting cloths and mops as I do my best to freshen up my rather dusty, slightly grubby London abode, something which is woefully overdue. I am clearly a slattern.
I was tempted to stop and get something quick in for lunch, like a pizza, but a forage around in the undergrowth of the fridge shamed me into making something fresh with what I had to hand instead. It’s saved me the cost of a takeaway, my trainer would be proud as it’s much healthier, and the whole thing took around thirty seconds to make.
What was to hand were a couple of smoked mackerel fillets, half an avocado, some tomatoes, the end of a cucumber and a few sad looking pine nuts in the remains of an opened packet. Tossed together with a splash of white wine vinegar, sumac, and a drizzle of good olive oil, it was more than passable.
There’s nothing wrong with a “once around the fridge and throw it all in a bowl” lunch now and then.
Feeling sanctimonious ☺️
Burrata. Bursting with creamy lusciousness. My absolute favourite type of mozzarella, and damn the calories.
It’s normally served with ripe tomatoes, maybe a few sprigs of fresh basil, but not much else. It’s richness doesn’t normally warrant any kind of embellishment.
However, at Jackson and Rye in London they serve it with a twist. Puddled in a smokey, tomato infused oil and drizzled with my new favourite condiment of the summer, walnut gremolata.
It’s a mixture of chopped, toasted walnuts, lemon zest, garlic and parsley, and it packs a delicious punch which acts as the perfect counterpoint to the soft, richly smooth burrata. An inspired combination.
I nearly ordered it twice… 😝
London doesn’t do extreme heat well. Despite the occasional respite of a shady park, the concrete and tarmac in the city intensify the heat and pollution until it’s almost unbearable at temperatures over 30C.
When it’s like this, it’s salads at best. The oven won’t get touched again until we’re back to reasonable temperatures. Lord only know how chefs cope when it’s this hot!
I’m like a pale, perspiring grub in this weather, slow and uncomfortable, hopping from shade to fan and moaning horribly. My pale, Scottish origin does not equip me for heat in any degree.
So, salads it is! I shall be at my most inventive until the weather cools in an attempt to keep our meals interesting. There’s only so much lettuce that a girl can eat…