Here she goes again, you think, boasting about her riches.
But listen to this story and why I am so exultant.
When I lived in Pune, and had just started cooking, 'foreign' vegetables were just coming into the market and priced to reflect their novelty. I didn't mind so much about asparagus and zucchini (yes, even zucchini was 'gourmet'!), but I did mind the parsley. At nearly 80 Rs for a couple of stems, parsley cost more than meat and so was never bought. A green-fingered friend did try to grow some for me, but the seeds never sprouted for him either.
When I came to Chatola, I discovered that a local organisation was selling herb starts. I bought garlic chives and rosemary and sage and of course, parsley. They all thrived. The parsley especially self-seeded as if it wanted to make up for the disappointment of a decade ago. Today, I need to just stretch out a hand to get parsley, but I still feel recklessly indulgent when I make a parsley-heavy dish like tabbouleh.
And today, G took me hunting for these.
Riches indeed. They have been lovingly cleaned and simmered in butter supplied by a neighbour.
Mian comes home soon. Dinner will be homemade pasta (made with our eggs) with morels, parsley and garlic- all from our garden.
Wallowing in luxury, we are.
But listen to this story and why I am so exultant.
When I lived in Pune, and had just started cooking, 'foreign' vegetables were just coming into the market and priced to reflect their novelty. I didn't mind so much about asparagus and zucchini (yes, even zucchini was 'gourmet'!), but I did mind the parsley. At nearly 80 Rs for a couple of stems, parsley cost more than meat and so was never bought. A green-fingered friend did try to grow some for me, but the seeds never sprouted for him either.
When I came to Chatola, I discovered that a local organisation was selling herb starts. I bought garlic chives and rosemary and sage and of course, parsley. They all thrived. The parsley especially self-seeded as if it wanted to make up for the disappointment of a decade ago. Today, I need to just stretch out a hand to get parsley, but I still feel recklessly indulgent when I make a parsley-heavy dish like tabbouleh.
And today, G took me hunting for these.
Riches indeed. They have been lovingly cleaned and simmered in butter supplied by a neighbour.
Mian comes home soon. Dinner will be homemade pasta (made with our eggs) with morels, parsley and garlic- all from our garden.
Wallowing in luxury, we are.
1 comment:
My mouth is watering with extreme envy of your dinner. Enjoy! Love you both.
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