I am not a warm weather cook. I think I've mentioned that a time or six. So far it's only 28 degrees in my flat, but that is plenty to induce lassitude, sulking between Zoom calls, and a disinclination near to any source of heat.
Still, there needs to be food, apparently. Certainly there needs to be drink, I've inhaled litres of water, some kefir, a random squash box, an awful lot of tea...
Lunch? Lunch was a quarter of a small Betty's fruit cake with a couple of bits of Wensleydale. It's magnificent and I will have no nay sayers. If you ever need emergency picnic food, this is it.
Yorkshire Greatness onna Plate
After which, dinner really needs to be vegetables, right? It's avocado toast, mostly. Avocado, salt, lime, tarragon (brief mental thank you to Jenny who used to cater at work and whose staple vegan tidbit was houmous with lime/avo/tarragon, it's a proper lovely mix).
With a lush tomato salad of colouful cherry toms and loads of dill.
And, you know, toast. Technically warm, but only briefly.
Peaches, stewed gooseberries and custard for pudding. Let's pretend it's 5 a day-compliant.
We will get through this. Covid, or heatwave, or the fact I've hit the part of Sandi Toksvig's lockdown podcast when they stop being daily. Lots of herbs and a certain amount of cake laid down in April will see us through.
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