Wednesday, 21 July 2010
This fellow was taken in Fowey when we were there in March and, as we all know, has a quick eye for any bits of grub going.
One of my favourite cold weather lunches is something I had in the States years ago - tuna topped with grated cheese on toast (apparently this is called Tuna Melt). It's easy to assemble, pop in the microwave and hey presto. (I say microwave rather than grill because we don't have a grill on our oven. Or if we do, it doesn't work. Another on the list of jobs for Himself.)
That smell of hot, stringy cheese always takes me back to many years ago when, for some reason, we were all at an Italian eatery in South Kensington. I must have been about 11 or 12 and so my brothers would have been 9 and 6 or thereabouts. Why we were there I can't think, as we lived in a small seaside town in Devon at the time. But I digress.
Dad took us to this Italian place which was in itself a novelty. Devon boasted fish and chip shops but we only ever had those for a special treat – like if the fair was in. We never ate out, let alone at a place with people who spoke a funny language.
But I can still remember the smell of that hot, stringy cheese on top of my pizza. The underlying, exotic whiff of what was probably oregano and who knows what other herbs. I can almost feel my teeth sink into the lovely chewy crust as my tongue burnt with the heat from the cheese. Feel that squidgyness as the tomato hit the back of my mouth. And watch in amazement as, forkful after forkful, that mozarella stretched in splendid yellow cords, like a tasty spider's web.
I don't even like pizza now – I find it too stodgy – but the memory of my first one will stay with me forever and always makes my mouth water. And that got me thinking of how much we take our senses for granted. Dogs have a sense of smell apparently 40 times as strong as ours. No wonder they get excited whenever food appears.
So I thought I'd see what I can smell now. Here goes while I sniff.
The musty scent of my rooibosh tea cooling next to me.
A faint waft of Persil from my fingers – I've just hung the washing outside.
The unmistakeable smell of wet dog – Mollie still hasn't dried out from her walk earlier when the grass was wet with rain.
What can you smell?