Here’s the thing with eating in someone else’s house, particularly if it’s in France. You’ve no idea when food might come along, nor of what it might comprise. It’s a good idea to eat as much of whatever gets put in front of you as you can shovel in because it might be a long time before anything else passes this way. The only thing we can be certain of is that it won’t originate in Spain. However, this means we have to buy the vegetables from the local farm and not from the supermarket. In turn, this implies that we can only have what the Argentinean woman has on offer. Predominately, this means courgettes; and she’s got quite a few of them.Last night we had a courgette terrine. It came by again this midi and it looks as if it will make a final appearance this evening. Sadly, there are still four courgettes left in the fridge. I suggested that if we bought some peppers and an aubergine I could combine them with the courgettes and make a ratatouille. However, the Argentinean’s aubergines are not yet ready and it seems as if another terrine might be in the offing. It was the same with the tomatoes. I found bundles of them at the bottom of the frigo so helpfully made a tomato salad. That was nice they said, we’ll have that again tomorrow. Further, my hostess has the figure of one who has had nothing of any substance to eat since being weaned which is largely due to the fact that she doesn’t eat. (We only got the terrine for lunch because monsieur is home having taken to his bed). So, midi arrives and finds me searching for food. Food at midi equals tomatoes. Sometimes, I have a tin of tuna with my tomato. Sometimes, my hostess gives me a cucumber – not Spanish – to add some variation but they’re very small cucumbers. I think they might be courgettes.
Another thing is not to get excited by what seems to be complicated cooking procedures occurring in the kitchen. I like to watch other people cooking, especially in France but it’s best not to anticipate the appearance of vast amounts of delicious food as a result. Take the making of the mayonnaise for example. It took at least an hour, employed nearly every utensil and device in the kitchen, was twice disposed of and had to be re-started and was the cause of immutable stress. We just buy it in a jar in England I said, but no-one was listening. When it was finished it was still deemed to be a disaster. I thought it might be improved with the help of a lemon. I didn’t say so but she read my mind. We haven’t got any lemons. Of course you haven’t. They grow them in Spain.
