Wow, fellow pasty-faced Britishers! (And all the Britishers who aren’t pasty-faced, because Britishers come in all colours). Look at that sun! LOOK AT IT! Actually, don’t look into it, that’s a really bad idea. But good gravy, what a bright bright sunshiny day. I bet there are loads of you in the park grilling frisbees and tossing burgers and lying about in that frantic Northern European ritual of embracing the Day Star for fear it may never come back, while putting up a convincing front of lackadaisical devil-may-careness and letting the heat melt into your chilly bones.

Me, I’m celebrating in style. Not only am I wearing a strappy, flowery dress but I am eating to match the weather. Today is a melon and feta day and no mistake.

Luckily I’ve had a little honeydew melon chilling in the fridge for the last couple of days. It’s a one-person melon, little bigger than a grapefruit and it came that way because that’s how the nice man outside New Cross station with the £1 fruit and veg bowls sells them. This one was in a bowl of 3 for £1 and it’s been sitting contemplating its fate in the fridge. This morning, it’s nobly spilled its entrails for the cause – with some help from my knife. I sliced it into little bits and matched them with triangular slivers of feta, which I duly placed in my mouth while looking out the window at the sun. Oh, the collision of icy mellow sweetness and audacious milky salt! One tiny bit at a time, crumb and droplet, the odd couple of tastes eyeing each other warily before collapsing into a tangled embrace on my tongue. The result was both gratifying and refreshing.

The rest of my breakfast is crisping in the oven – a round, golden arepa like the face of the sun with some garlicky courgettes and a bit more of that feta to make it sharp. Oh yes. Here comes the summer.

Published in: on May 23, 2010 at 12:21 pm  Leave a Comment  

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