I started to feel giggly. I don’t know why. I hadn’t done anything outrageous and I hadn’t even been drinking champagne. Things had been dropping into place with very little effort from me, which is always cheering, but that doesn’t seem to have been enough reason. However, chatting away to LT in the kitchen, I saw he was starting to grin at my bubbling and babbling and by the time we had eaten dinner, I was just finding everything funny.
I’d sing and dance or something like that, but the cat would be affronted, however much I might amuse the patient Tim.
I wonder how much one can alter a recipe before it isn’t the dish you started with any more. Tonight’s salad Niçoise (yes, I know it’s the second time in a matter of days) included broad beans, Cayenne pepper and some salmon, as well as the orthodox components. Cucumber, tomato, potatoes, eggs, the aforementioned broad beans and pepper, were from the garden, which is a great pleasure, as I’d picked/dug/fetched them within an hour of them being eaten.
This is bringing me back to Meals on Wheels, actually. I must hang on to that thought for tomorrow.