Socca

It seemed appropriate, given this weekend marks the beginning of another season of heartache. The recipe came from Plenty, and is apparently to do with the South of France, which is why I'm drinking a glass of white from Languedoc while I wait for a programme about giant whale cocks to start on Channel 4. Socca are gram flour and egg white pancakes, topped with tomato and onion. And, if you're me, homegrown chard and rocket. Mine don't look like the ones in the book. And as I ate only one, I really don't know how to transport the other to work for lunch.
In other news, my Corfiot lemon pips have sprouted, which is nice. Were Lawrence Durrell alive and round my gaff for tea, I'm sure he'd be very impressed. (Also - a batch of wild plum gin and some bottle-conditioned homebrew are now on their way.)

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