Friday night's impossible-to-photograph Flavour Bundles. Leftover chicken from the previous night's Leaping-frog Roast Chicken (a later post), marinated carrot sticks, heaps of terrace herbs, Chinese cabbage and lettuce for folding, and dipping sauce hot and fiery and limey.
Prosecco (Mionetto Gold Label, $10.99, very nice) with sliced ripe yellow peach.
After croissants and coffee on Saturday morning we headed to Ikea! On a bus! It was fun! Culture shock! After traipsing through the Twilight Zone with a lot of other zoned-out shoppers from every stratum of New York life, we headed for the cafeteria to eat...Swedish meatballs.
I have never been to Ikea before. I had heard about the meatballs, but never eaten them, aside from a delicious dishful at the Swedish Embassy in DC, a million years ago. Had a longing ever since. They were fine. All 700 calories of them. Ikea tells you that...for $4.99. There were people there, large, old and infirm, just eating, not shopping. At least we had a filing cabinet in tow. For organizing this mousetrap.
After lugging home the very heavy assemble-yourself cabinet (well, Vince lugged, I shouted Mush!), and putting it together (again Vince and Mush!), we broke for Sangria. Not usually my sort of drink, but last night it was.
Kirstin's Waterer, David, had made us a stellar gift of yellow fin tuna that he'd caught off the Continental Shelf last week, and after picking it up from Kirstin on Friday and thawing it, I bathed it in lots of herbs and olive oil.
I also made a fresh, raw sauce of tarragon, fennel, basil and parsley, with some garlic, lime zest and lime juice, and even more olive oil.
Warm potato salad with freshly-snipped chives, salt and pepper.
Dark terrace dinner, Sangria on fire.
Sunday morning...blueberry pancakes.
I made a small one for the cat.
After most of the day was spent moving things from here to there and then into that and round there and back there and behind that and out of this and back into that, and onto the sidewalk or into the trash, we had a late lunch of Scrumpy Cider and cheese.
And then storms broke and thundered and pressure dropped and rain came and went with a rainbow, and I cut the catnip back, muttered at the falling-down cosmos, glared at the forms I have to fill out for turning Vince from a tourist into an alien in transition...and thought about supper.