make dinner, not war

I was accused on the weekend of hating men. It was after a drunken rant in a taxi to a friend's PTL about the lack of effective communication I'd encountered from a few of them, as romantic liaisons of my past had fizzed and crumbled (other drunken rants include The impact of technology on the development of relationships and Modern Self Esteem: We are babes and we are awesome).

The opposite is in fact is true. I love men. That's probably my problem. There's one in particular I love at the moment though, and that dear readers, is Nigel Slater. My wonderful friend Olivia gave me his book Tender Volume 2 for my birthday back in August, and I adore it, and him, immensely. He writes about food, and seasons, and cooking, and fresh produce, in ways I only dream of, and I fully intend on making one of his numerous and beautiful cheesecakes from it very soon (friends for dinner asap, hopefully). He writes recipes through the seasons, and with the new strawberry plants I have growing in my new adorable flat for the summer in Kingsland, I have high hopes (but in reality very low expectations) that one day soon I'll be able to use my own-grown produce to cook my way through this gorgeous ode to fruit (Tender volume one is dedicated to vegetables).

Tonight though, being one of those post-weekend-filled-with-drunken-rants Mondays, I had little energy for anything other than throwing together some veges and some salad. I went with a variation on Slater's gorgeous sounding courgetti, although I did my wafer thin ribbons of courgette in a frying pan, with simply salt and pepper, olive oil, lemon zest, dried chilli and some fresh parsley and mint. Add some parmesan and some pasta, a couch and a cute cat, and a gorgeous book, and you have yourself a perfect Monday night dinner indeed.