(no subject)

[yagathai]

Instead of cooking and possibly disturbing my neighbors, I ended up putting together a small snack plate built around a tour of the Continent: From France, a pair of French cheeses (a nice crumbly Roquefort and an inoffensive Tomme de Savoie, which was harmless and serviceable but which just couldn't hold up against the rest of the strong flavours on the plate, and was probably a mistake -- I should have gone for the feta or the chevre) and some thick slices of a juicy red pear. From Spain, some membrillo (a quince paste, in this case with a delicious honey finish), half a link of chorizo sausage and a half-dozen boquerones (a kind of lightly pickled, herb-marinated anchovy filet). From Italy, two kinds of capers -- salt-packed and oil-packed, and from Portugal a small glass of ruby port. Oh, and some hearts of palm from Costa Rica, which didn't fit with the Continental theme but I really wanted some for the texture and palate-cleansing mouthfeel.

I also ate a clove of garlic, because I don't have anyone to care about my breath.

Now I shall finish reading this novel, then take a sleeping pill and drug myself into what is hopefully a dreamless sleep. I do not like the dreams I've been having lately.