Primrose Hill, Saturday 18 August, 31 degrees…
The British summer had been a massive wash-out until very, very recently. And then, out of nowhere, we went and got two scorchio weekends on the trot. Whoop. The Saturday before last was the weekend of the barbecue, so the weekend just passed was all about the park-based picnic.
Primrose Hill in norf London to be precise – also known as mine and my friends’ favourite-ever stomping ground. That big grassy mound not far from Jamie and Jules’ house and inhabited by hipsters and yuppies, hobos (like us) and puppies, has been woe-tally under-used this summer. So, with the mercury soaring to 31 whole degrees this past Saturday, a few of us stomped all all over it again.
And, oops, I didn’t get my “chopping block” out… BUT I did help the British economy and everything by purchasing food from M&S.
Picnic attendees: Ellie, Tara, sis Tash, Rick, and me.
Tomato and mozzarella puff pastry tart (not heated, tasted like cold pizza, was yum, especially when dunked in sour cream and chive dip)
Lemon and chilli prawns (mmmm)
Hummus (big pot, enhanced by massive squeeze of big juicy lemon)
Chilli lentil curls (baked crisps, no potato, tasty)
Roast tomato frittata (not heated, tasted like cold Spanish omelette, delicious when slathered in hummus)
Halkidiki olives (big green mamas stuffed with olives, exciting because Halkidiki is also where I’m going on holiday next month)
*cough* Three bottles of pink fizz
Other ingredients at Saturday’s picnic:
A hilarious lemon (see picture four).
An olive-eating baby (not ours).
An unprintable story (or five).
NB: Now I’ve had a weekend off, I’m all set to get back in the kitchen. And… I’m going to start by watching Lorraine Pascale (tonight on BBC 2 at 8pm) and The Great British Bake-Off (tomorrow on BBC2 at 8pm also, if I remember rightly) for inspiration. Honestly, I have a feeling I could have made that M&S frittata, or at least the dips myself. Never thought I’d see myself type such a thing…