Sumac

During the day I shook off the gin hangover by meeting Leigh at the shops to do some temporarily-in-the-UK sort of errands. On the way I had to brake too fast on my bike (more related to not paying attention than being hungover) and fell into a crusty bit of road, which made my hand bleed. Leigh was on hand with tissues pilfered from Waterstones.

In the evening Thomasina and her boyfriend Charlie cooked a fantastic and delicious dinner for a group of us. The recipes came from Ottolenghi's book. Flicking through at the recommended ingredients for one's kitchen cupboards, I decided it's no wonder half of the country voted for Brexit as a protest against the agenda of whom they may term liberal elites. No one needs sumac or pomegranate molasses in their larder. I'm usually fine with a Müller Rice.