It is a Sunday night and I am feeling melancholy. I am used to the inevitability of Sunday night blues as they will exist for as long as Monday mornings in my mundane office job exists. However, this Sunday my blues are a little different- I am not working tomorrow. I have booked the day off to await the delivery of our brand new sofa bed. So, what is the cause of such sorrow. Not that I am being melodramatic at all…
I have had a very relaxing day, which was definitely needed. But I have also had a very uninspiring day. The weather has been stormy. The windows rattling in their panes, the sheets of rain bouncing off the skylights, the dark grey skies, and the damp coldness have kept me inside for most of the day. This doesn’t bother me too much as, being a welsh girl, I am used to this weather. Being a welsh girl in the rainy city of Bristol and I am even more used to it. The reason I am melancholy is, I have had a dull day in the kitchen. My senses have not been stirred into a satisfied state. I tried millet but over cooked it. I roasted vegetables with lemon, rosemary, garlic and olive oil but there was nothing in the dish to cut through and soften the sourness of the lemon. Perhaps adding freshly squeezed lemon juice to the resting millet also led to its undoing. Whatever the reason, the end result was a meal that was palatable at first but then quickly became friends with the dustbin. Disappointing. And, there was no dessert to help with this unpleasant after taste. I have since been sulking.
It has been a citrus filled week: a mixture of successes and failures. The lemon drizzle cake that I made on Tuesday was enjoyed by all who ate it. Encouraged by this I made a lemon and pea risotto on Thursday. This resulted in the same disappointment experienced today- again a key ingredient was missing. Yet, yesterday I made orange shortbread for my wonderful friend Emma as we resumed our seasonal Saturday tradition of watching the televised national rugby matches. We sat and chatted whilst Wales lost against South Africa comforted by these little shortbread biscuits, which we savoured with our cups of tea. Very British and civilised. (I won’t dwell on our yelling at the screen). And so, it seems that I have not learnt how to use the lovely citrus in savoury dishes. In my mind I can imagine subtle hints of lemon, where it’s tartness is muted and complimented by another taste. But by what, I don’t know.
This leads me to the present. It is 11:00pm and I am tired and flat. But, fortunately, tomorrow is a new day. With it comes the hope of new culinary delights and joyful moments that will briefly snatch me away from the awareness of our wintery, rainy weather. So good night, dear reader, sleep well.