I came over all cheffy again. I’d seen James Martin at the weekend cook pollock, on a bean/fennel/tomato casserole, and had ordered in some bits as usual.
Couldn’t remember the recipe…and an internet search didn’t really turn up what I’d seen (but not paid attention to, obviously!).
Aha! There’re some cookbooks in the dining room – I think there’s a James Martin book there!
Well, two, actually, but they didn’t have what I wanted (I found it eventually thanks to AI searches).
But I looked at the 3 shelves of books, mostly not used. My Jane loved indulging in buying cookbooks based on a recipe she’d seen on TV (This Morning often). I had no idea we had so many!
A Swedish recipe book? Really?
But I wasn’t sad – it was a warm, fuzzy feeling, remembering My Jane’s joy at seeing a recipe and wanting to give it a go.
