Stein.

I don't know how many Rick Stein books I have; maybe 10.

The above two are my latest additions. Food from Spain, and from the Eastern Med'.

More than most other food writers, Stein has a genuine understanding of the social and geographical significance of both his ingredients and their usage. He loves the utter simple just as much as the multi-starred posh.

In the introduction to his 'Venice to Istanbul' he talks of the simplicity (and perfection) of a Greek salad. One is immediately reminded of those delightful beach-side island Tavernas, of Retsina and Domestica, of warm nights under the stars that one prayed would never end.

I regret that I never attempted to learn Greek; I would have loved to own a small fisherman's cottage on some tiny Cycladean island. Zorba would have danced for me, some smiling elderly grandmother would have cooked for me, and my table would have been home to fishermen farmers and wine makers (as well as Stein himself).

Recipe books, especially Stein's, are as much travelogues as descriptions of foods. A pot of Hummus from Waitrose can never invoke the memories that the above photo can muster in an instant. Stein is my kind of cook, and my kind of tourist. 

He seems to get it right every time.

Moules/Frites.

I always associate Moules/Frites with Belgium rather than France, but in recent years it has become as much a part of our summer life as lost Dutch tourists.

Last night we went to our usual lakeside 'restaurant' for our once-a-year feast. 

I must say that it was probably the best Moules we've ever eaten there. They were fat, juicy, and perfectly cooked. 

I'm just sorry my son didn't take a photo of the huge crowd, the huge pots of Moules that kept arriving, or even the mountain of detritus. 

That Pumpkin Patch.

I showed my Pumpkin Patch before; this is how it looks now.

The plants seem very happy on the old compost heap, this flower amused me as it's grown through a leaf. Plenty of Bees around.

I haven't counted how many actual Pumpkins there are, but I imagine there are quite a few. I put in two types; a huge orange one, and a slightly smaller grey one. Some of each would be good.

This one above looks as if it's going to be a whopper.

Ratatouille Season.

                               

Suddenly we are inundated with wonderful vegetables from Haddock's.

Time to make Ratatouille.

Keeping them busy.

Trying to find new and interesting activities for the children isn't easy.

There's been Cricket, Football, Swimming, Golf, Croquet, Treasure hunting, Kayaking, TV (yes, I know), and good old fashioned walks through the woods.

                             

A dog, several kids, and a woodland track, and all is well with the world. Long walks are best! Little Jade even took her two teddies along.

Look what I found!

Driving through the woods on my way back from shopping yesterday morning, No 1 son and I found the above Tortoise wandering along the road.

He's (I imagine he's a he) a big boy; he must weigh over a kilo.

Goodness knows where he came from; maybe he was abandoned by a returning holiday-maker, or simply escaped from someone's garden. I don't think he's wild; they're usually found much further to the south.

I'll ring the Vet' to see if he's been reported missing. If anyone wants a huge Tortoise, you know where to come....

He's been temporarily named 'Corbyn'.

Priorities.

No 1 son, Kimbo, recently bought me a good quality, medium sized, Waitrose Melton Mowbray Pork Pie from London (actually he bought me two).

He knows that with a hefty wedge of Pork Pie, a good dollop of mustard, and a few gherkins, I'm in heaven.

But whilst eating the above yesterday I realised something that's been gnawing away at my gastronomic conscience for many years; and that is, that it HAS to be ENGLISH MUSTARD. Pukka Colman's made with pukka powder, and mixed by hand.

This bloody French stuff (which is perfectly OK with most things) just doesn't do the job.