Tuesday, 10 June 2008

Lunch and a lone sweet pea

Twisted the last five winter onions from dry powdery earth. They are pristine and elegant. Don't know how they grew so beautifully on such chalky gritty soil. Can't believe all my soil enhancing seems to have vanished from sight. I will hang these immaculate bulbs in the kitchen and look at them often. Will miss them when they are eaten. 

10 sugar snaps sit fat in my hand. The first of the crop. I am tempted to eat them on the way home. I can't take my eyes off the cool bag of lettuce beside me with rich red and greens of Royal Oak and darker spikes of rocket. I have never eaten salad at 9.30 am but it feels like it might happen any minute. The first batch of courgettes are starting to produce tiny fruits. They will be making dinner in a week's time, or possibly that wonderful soup I need to find the recipe for. A cushion of herbs goes into the bag and a luxurious lone sweet pea, way ahead of it's peers.