First proper post of the new blog is all about a recipe that yields a feast for the mind. Michael Pollan repeatedly describes the aftermath of ingesting this sort of feast as ineffable (defying description). Philistine that I am, I had a rude definition in mind along the same lines as this one given by a panelist on “I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue,” vis:
Feckless: an Irish virgin
PBJ&M Sandwich
Ingredients:
Large, whole wheat bap
Peanut butter (crunchy has some textural advantages)
Blackcurrant conserve (or other tart jam or preserves)
Roughly 30 g mushrooms chopped coarsely (3 g if dehydrated are used).
I got my supply as the first batch from a wholesaler near Brixton — I served as the otherwise unpaid scientific advisor for this new farm and, I’m guessing, the guinea pig ahead of the new product rollout.
While not precisely delicious, the acrid flavour and unpleasant texture of the mushrooms is quite effectively masked. For a predawn breakfast, this provides both the energy and inspiration for a bit of a hike as the sun rises.
It turned into a very productive morning, indeed. I had tickets in the afternoon to hear a talk by the author Will Self; instead, both my Will and Self were obliterated.
Much later in the day (the walk was a mere 2 hours starting about an hour after the breakfast), the first episode of the Jodie Whittaker incarnation of Dr Who was broadcast. She’s very Tom Baker-esque, but with a healthy dose of David Tennant. I’m so pleased … is that wrong, at my age?
In all, about 6½ miles walking and some very good realignment of my mental state — I’ve needed this. Definitely the closest thing to a reunion with dear, old friends I’ve had in a few years.
Endless British Pub Crawl (Part 3) 