Unlike many people I know – my friend Rosemary (and her lovely blog) comes to mind – I do not especially enjoy cooking. I can put dishes together well enough to survive, but I don’t have any particular talent at the art. However, with life as a young professional beckoning, it occurs to me that I can no longer count on being fed (by a university dining hall, parents, foodie of a sister, etc.) but must instead learn how to feed myself. Given I was bumming around the kitchen and watching the French Open, I figured today was as good a day as any to begin my culinary education.
Best to start simple, I figured – possibly ridiculously simple. I created an impromptu sauce with grape tomatoes, basil, and garlic, threw it together with some fettuccine, and sprinkled some shredded parmesan on top for a perfectly pleasant bowl of pasta:
To supplement this, I cut up some fresh strawberries and mixed them into a massive dollop of plain yoghurt for just the right mixture of tart and sweet. Since the end of the academic year, the last month of which involved far too much indulging in what I call the preservatarian diet, I have had a constant craving for fresh fruit and desired strawberries most of all.
This also reminds me of the 90p yoghurt pots I used to buy from the café in the Social Science Library in Oxford as snacks during my lengthy coursework sessions there. But enough of the nostalgia.
Speaking of the French Open, nothing says “summer” to me like Grand Slam tennis. There have been some absolutely delightful matches so far with even better ones to come, not the least a Roger Federer-Novak Djokovic semifinal that will leave me positively wracked with anxiety, I am sure.