It’s 9:45 pm and the temperature is hovering at 87 degrees. The apartment is stifling from being closed up for three days while we toured France. What are we doing?
Cooking.
Just before crossing the border from France to Spain we did some shopping for a picnic lunch. Seduced by the array of French foods we loaded up in anticipation of dinner at home; firm white potatoes, baby artichokes, skinny little haricots verts. R is grilling duck legs marinated in Provencal herbs. It must be 100 degrees in front of the BBQ. R is a dedicated and hungry man.
The green beans are so fresh and flavorful they get little prep. Just a quick blast in the microwave then taken crisp-tender and steaming to the table. At the last minute I toss some chorizo in to trick the kids into eating their greens. I’ll save the artichokes for tomorrow but the potatoes are for tonight. I boil them in salted water and give them a quick dressing of olive oil and Provencal herbs.
We sit down for dinner at 10:15 in front of a whirring fan, kids are naked against the heat. You’d think we’d pick at our food, but we eat heartily. L has three duck legs, J has two; the beans disappear.
After dinner we melt away to bed via cool showers, shutters thrown open to the Spanish night. It takes the kids a long time to settle and it’s one a.m. before I douse the lamp and kiss R. goodnight.
Just your average evening in Spain. Buenos noches.
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1 comment:
The beans look great. We had fresh beans last hight also. I used a piece of bacon in them. It gave them great flaver. Yours look better.
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