I’ve never used marrow, vegetable marrow that is (obviously given my tastes bone marrow would never be on the menu chez IsobelandCat, though I remember my black Labrador Tessa used to have tins of a product called Pal which claimed it was enriched with marrowbone jelly) in curry before tonight. It was good, very good. Marrow is a bland vegetable which soaked up the curry flavours like a sponge and shared them nicely with its fellow vegetables. I had seconds, but then exerted my self-control and the rest is in a plastic container which will go into the freezer once it’s cooled down enough. The rest of the marrow will come with me to das Boot tomorrow and probably form part of another curry, maybe a green one this time. It’s a smallish chunk. I gave half the marrow to B&J and used half the remainder tonight. The mathematicians among you will have worked out that leaves a quarter.
I love curry. Like soup it’s a great chance to use up vegetables that are kicking around the fridge – squishy tomatoes, mushrooms that have passed their best, those last bits of cauliflower, the forgotten potato, the last of the carrots, a stick of celery that would otherwise go into the compost. Fresh ginger, a mix of spices, lentils, chilli flakes and hey presto you have a wonderful and fragrantly delicious meal. I added a large handful of fresh spinach tonight when it was nearly done. Yum and cheap as chips.
Someone, I wish I could remember who it was, told me he knew of a family who had given up their vegan diet because it was too expensive. I gaped at him in disbelief. What were they eating? Aanalogue meats and processed stuff at every mea? Veganism is incredibly economical, which given my current lack of income is extremely fortunate. I eat fairly cheaply and I eat well. Pound for pound, I am pretty sure MasterB’s food is more costly than mine.
Running a car is not economical. I filled up the petrol tank of mine today- £35. Basically that’s more or less what it costs me in petrol each time I go to the boat. I could stay at home, but the forecast is fine, summer will not last forever, and the countryside calls. I’m racking up more expenses by arranging to get the hall of my flat painted. Whether I put my home on the market or not, it needs doing. I need to learn not to bash the skirting boards with the vacuum cleaner. They are not a pretty sight. I am not good at painting, I’m particularly not good at painting with gloss or eggshell. There are five doors in my hallway. Five doors with wood surrounds. For ages I have wanted the doors painted too. Now it’s going to happen. I may have to stay.
I may have to stay anyway. My neighbour Carol is selling her house and called me today to announce that the housing market is going to crash in October as the full effects of the pandemic are felt across the country’s economy and we head into recession. Actually she called me four times today, but the third time I was driving. I think this house selling business is getting to her. It’s getting to me, and I’m not selling her house.
Stay safe. Keep well. Be kind.