Red wine and fish, Mr Bond? English Pinot on the veranda with chalk stream trout starter.
Blink-and-you’ll-miss-them wildlife 1) bats flying around the stream at the back of our lodge 2) deer with two fawns Langdale, Cumbria, UK
This evening’s wine is, thankfully, in much better shape. 2020 Tasman Riesling from Devil’s Corner. Kerosene, citrus, apricots and savouriness with linear acidity.
Feels a bit like being at the doctors but here goes anyway: is it supposed to be this colour? Deep gold Pouilly Fume from 2017. Tastes of sultanas and dried apricot. Sherry-esque tang. I’ve had Vouvrays and Burgundies of similar / greater age that were much more sandy yellow
Return visit one year on Bay Horse. Hurworth on Tees. As fabulous as the last time.
My shot. In daylight. Kind of looks like a spaceship landing from this angle.
Leftovers for lunch. Mozzarella, red pepper pesto plus thyme from the garden with a bit of oil and balsamic.
Unexpected visitor in the garden. My wife shrieked. Rattus Norvegicus. He’d obviously eaten a lot of poo in the sewers and came up for a bit of light and some refreshing green leaves.
Let the weekend commence. Cava to start, followed by a magnum of Bierzo. There might be some food as well, but frankly that feels like a minor detail.
Welcome to Cambridge 😀 We can see the Carter Bridge there from the back of our house. Did Cambridge - Nimes in a day a couple of years ago. Albeit in the car. Getting up at home, then having dinner on the terrace with Lavender and cicadas was just lovely.
Can recommend a visit to the taproom in Bakewell if you are passing. Even if you are not, actually.
Nice - did a vertical with them almost a decade ago. At that time, 2016 was the greatest vintage of the century so far.
Infantilisation of food in particular. seems to be A Thing. Daughter did a thesis on Japanese postwar consciousness and kawai (“cuteness”) was a major theme. We’ve got nothing on them - they do this:
Ventured out to the butcher’s today for a weekend stock-up. Outside, one of the staff was measuring the temperature with a meat thermometer. She explained to me: it’s 38 and still rising. I went in to get my order. A few minutes later she arrived back and announced: thirty eight point four!
Dinner in the garden. Finishing up with Mrs L’s homemade stracciatella and rosewater ice cream.
Is that the Metropolitan Government building? Serious Blade Runner vibes there after dark.
Before and after shots of this evening’s saltimbocca. Chicken breast, prosciutto and sage leaves. Pan-fried, then add a squiz of lemon juice, cover with a lid for a few minutes and serve.
Fathers’ day cards from the kids. Nice to know the little b*ggers. still think of me occasionally. Reckon I wore the lightning bolt better than Bowie.
Fathers’ day coffee and cakes at The Orchard, Grantchester. If you don’t know the place, it’s an institution. Deck chairs in an actual orchard that has, over the years, hosted poets, novelists, scientists and actors from the university just up the river. On a good day you can punt up here.
Here you go, does this help? Likely my sister bought it in that case; she is quite discerning with a good eye.