Saturday
6am: Blueberries and soy yogurt for breakfast, with a coffee (half hot oat to half moka pot espresso, the cup pre-warmed). I’ve been sitting in a certain spot, not in the kitchen, but looking out into the garden, to eat.
Last night’s aubergines, which were grilled in thin mandolined rounds, chopped, and added to a lukewarm rice noodles, with peanut butter, sesame oil, soy. Cucumbers, too, and toasted sesame seeds. Eaten in the garden in half sun, some nasturtium leaves picked absently and put on top.
We made pasta, Katie and Dot the dough, Isobel a lentil-y red ragu with bay leaves, while I stood up a ladder drilling holes. I rolled the dough out and we made an operation of its shaping, then hanging against chair backs. It was fine and long and a pale yellow. We ate it hungry and fast, and had more straight after.
Sunday
Crumpets grilled (the toaster has not been replaced), with lemony portobello mushrooms and feta.
Out — with Son, a fruity tea bread with a sesame crust, toasted, with a hard manchego-like cheese, and greengages, I think, sweet and with thin, more bitter skins. We went to charity shops and I bought a thermal cafetière — more on this next time.
6pm : Lots of coffee and some chocolate to try and get a second burst of energy.
For dinner the same as yesterday’s lunch, but supplemented with mushrooms, again. I doubled the noodles and ate it in the kitchen in the same pyrex bowl as yesterday. The meals often an iteration of one another, one thing in-one out, a handshake across the weekend.