A flood of touristsis touring The Pantiles this morning. Cameras hang on bellies. Oh my goodness. I sometimes wonder if so many photographs will in time erode the facades and organisms they snap. Who can blame people unused to cameras fearing that photographs may tamper with their souls? I am a tourist too. But I go about it sneakily. My camera is hidden away. Hypoctrite lecteur, mon semblable, mon frere.
To deal with a glut of courgettes (zucchini) I type out my recipe for a frittata of the vegetable grated and seasoned with pieces of feta cheese and basil. I have evolved the recipe over the years to combat similar gluts and to win over, I hope, even the most ardent enemies of the vegetable marrow or Curcurbita family. Copies go to neighbours as a incentive to cook adventurously. Omelet? More like a savoury cake which can be eaten hot or cold. An ornament for a picnic.
2 comments:
A glut of courgettes. The forgotten plague of Egypt after it rained frogs, the Nile turned into blood, the dying of the first-born, etc, etc.
As I feared my recipe would find no favour with you. But I wonder if VR would like a copy to attempt something, since we are engaged in biblical language, of a Damascene nature.
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