Today Alex and I grudgingly conceded that we are both, although not entirely incompetent, only painfully average at making pancakes. We were immediately deeply grateful that this was not a skill required of us on a daily rather than an annual basis. We are, however, fabulous in other culinary and personal ways so we're not feeling too shabby about it.
Moving on from Shrove commitments, and having re-established a love for January and February's produce (after a severe post Christmas backlash involving ennui with the chestnut) I happily surveyed the day's delivery. Roots aplenty had materialised from our new vegetable supplier, including their gift of an intriguing muddy box of Salsify. After some discussion, the roots were fried in butter and served with skate. They go by a common name of 'oyster plant' - funnily enough, Camille and I (who have been known to put away an oyster or 12) couldn't for the life of us distinguish why it all tasted so damned familiar...
The remaining vegetables, in the company of some free range chickens and various beef, suggested a day long project: Pot-au-Feu, the results of which will be apparent on tomorrow's menu. I'm hoping that few to no French purists will find grounds to criticise my broth, as it was a labour of love and is somewhat delicious.
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