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[personal profile] desperance
It's about this time of night that I like to toss a nibbly-plate together, to see me through the last working hours of the day.

Bizarrely, tonight I have no bread. I have sourdough rising, which I will bake in the morning; but I finished last week's loaf at lunchtime. No bread.

What I do have is a superfluity of mushrooms. There's a wholesale greengrocer just around the corner; it's a bit intimidating, but they had boxes of limes (somewhere between 40 and 50 of the little green beauties per box) for £1.50, and I have friends who are fond of margaritas. So I hazarded the scary loud men and the weird system, and came away with a box of limes and a box of mushrooms. Mac is in a sort of bewildered heaven; there are Too Many Mushrooms even for him, and he's allowed to just help himself. I think this spoils the fun; he's a thief first and a beggar second, a licensed operation doesn't interest him at all.

Anyway: no bread, but many mushrooms. So I just fried up a tapas-plate of ham bits and mushroom quarters, splashed with a little balsamic (it's healthy! it's a salad!), and oh my. Oh, nom.

Also, Mac doesn't like balsamic. Yuk spit, quotha. So he doesn't lick the plate, and I get to go back for seconds.
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