Feetiquins.I see a woman wearing a blanket-like garment, a poncho, I suppose. It makes me think how much I like blankets: to wear, to sit on, to wrap about oneself, or to lie under in the cold. Clint Eastwood notably wears a poncho in his spaghetti westerns. The cheroot and cowboy hat I'll have as well if no one else wants them.
Outside Guiseppi's shop in The Pantiles, a some big tomatoes on the vine, plump as Christmas. "Smell them ," he says. I do. Tonight I will slice them very fine and serve them with a scattering of the herbs left in the garden, a few leaves of watercress and razor thin slices of the duck sausage I bought from the French cheese merchant at the Farmers's Market. Olive oil. Maldon sea salt and balsamic vinegar to season them.
2 comments:
A horrible vision emerges: a poncho-clad man with no name arrives at the BR, interrogates the customers on their inner failings (particularly the one wearing what appears to be a nightshirt), abuses them all round, forces them to paint the interior bright red, then moves on.
What an all round delightful post! I thought that leather hat of yours had a touch of the spaghetti western about it, and with BB's fantasy it gets even better.
I like blankets too, and find it difficult to resist buying them when attractive ones are offered at interesting prices. Its the same with bowls and saucepans.
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