The cooking obsession shows no sign of diminishing. Yesterday, we woke up to snow on the ground – several snow or sleet-falls the day before, but we hadn’t expected it to settle. So I spent the morning making soups. I’d already planned the French onion, because I’d made lamb stock, but I had various vegetables that wanted using. So asparagus, using the trimmings, leek and potato, and squash and fennel. Today’s effort is pea and ham, though the split peas are taking an inordinate time to soften and it’s just occurred to me that I should have cooked them in plain, unsalted water first before adding the ham stock. Which wasn’t very salty but probably has caused the delay in softening. I’m a fool, I know perfectly well not to add salt to peas or beans before they’re softened, but I didn’t actually add it so I didn’t think. I suppose it’ll be all right in the end and, if not, I’ll put it through the mouli and leave behind the hard bits. The flavour will be okay, anyway.
As the dinner was tonight. Tim cooked, it was monkfish in a tomato sauce. Tomato, shallot, garlic, vermouth and parsley, he tells me. Lovely.