Breaking My Fast

As these days the Dear Leader and I undertake a 600 calorie fast every Monday we actually do break a more meaningful fast than normal on a Tuesday morning. Strangely we neither of us wake up ravenous, nor horribly early, on the morning after the slight deprivation before. In fact what we have on the Tuesday is only a variation on the Monday fast breakfast (and yes, it is fast to do as well) of a boiled egg and a bowl of fruit.


Lest this all begin to be too too virtuous, I am looking forward to a short holiday in Scotland in not many weeks' time, where I hazard a guess there may not be bowls of fruit available on the hotel breakfast menu. With luck there will be black pudding, and I am certain sure bacon and sausages will feature, things reserved now for high days and holidays. For the sake of my - love that euphemism - digestive transit - I hope they will have given in to brown bread as an option.


That bowl of fruit is a major pleasure, but given my constant wish to have diversity in our diet it is something of a challenge too. It's April, so imported strawberries make the grade occasionally now, along with blueberries. Citrus is a must for some sharpness (but as per my previous post, not as sharp in the case of grapefruit as was once the case), kiwi for the beautiful green and the eye-beneficial compounds signaled by that colour, and plums for some crunch and their purple or yellow skins. Pomegranate seeds (the trick is to bash the back of the halved fruit over a bowl with a heavy wooden spoon) strewn over the lot once or twice a week bring a touch of Aladdin - it takes little imagination to see them as drifts of rubies in a bandit's treasure chest. But back to my less camp self now.


The rather limited fruit range offered by my local supermarkets is bolstered by visits to the excellent Asian shop we use more or less weekly. Today I bought dragon fruit, golden plums, guavas and a bright yellow-skinned mango (along with a load of non-fruit items). The white with black dots of the dragon fruit, cut in elegant dice, and even the light-green-beige of the guavas, will add to the richness of the breakfast palette. It is not too long too until we will have our own rhubarb, gooseberries, greengages, mirabelles, pears, apples, quince, blackcurrants and even with luck apricots to add to the mix.


I will enjoy the contrast of hotel bacon and eggs for a few days (they can keep any hash browns on offer, I'm yet to encounter one anywhere that's not oily and badly cooked), but at the same time will miss the burst of colour (and flavour) that breakfast at home brings.

A Lemon Tree, My Dear Watson?

It was brought home to me this morning how important the seemingly humble lemon actually is in culinary life. I'm not talking about fancy dishes with lemon as a major ingredient - ah, childhood memories of lemon meringue pie, and childhood nightmares of the school version possibly made with a by-product of petrol refining.


As is normal here we had a bowl of fruit as part of breakfast. Having shopped yesterday at my favourite local Asian supermarket dragon fruit was part of that. The last time we had it thus the flavour was almost non-existent; today, with a big squeeze of lemon it was brought forward hugely. Guava benefitted too, its strange (and enjoyable) man-sweat quality enhanced by the citrus. I always prepare papaya with a similar dash of lime juice, which raises its game greatly. The list goes on, and includes lemon as an acid helping reduce the GI value of certain foods, which is great long term for the waistline.


I also recalled that imported supplies of citrus fruits are expected to be hit by the looming no-deal Brexit. Dover, apparently, accounts for 80 per cent or so of imports, and will be a car park if general expectations of government planning come about. With Chris Grayling (I have complete confidence in... per the marvellous Mrs May's sell) in charge of transport what could possibly go wrong?


We have grown our own - yes we have a lemon tree, my dear Watson, and a lime - with somewhat limited success for a few years now. I hope that the couple of lemons and one lime expected as our annual crop will not have to suffice this summer. The Dear Leader's G&T needs a slice. And so do a vast range of salads, fish dishes, fruits and sauces. We're buggered, aren't we?