Unfood
What? No Directors' Dinners? Have we all gone on hunger strike?
In one household, almost. I am on a four-times-a-week treadmill of a language course, and the towering heights of culinary excitement after clattering out of Bloomsbury for the nine o'clock train — well, they are somewhat Norfolkian. Simple fuel is the order of these evenings (cheese and pâté seem to dominate); but tonight we did raise the game a tad. Still very simple, but salmon fillets with home-grown broad beans were indeed manna compared with ingesting someone else's ideas.
I have three more weeks of this: let's hope for the occasional flash of opportunity.
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