Polenta Made Pretty.

    Along with lentils, rice, noodles in various forms and potatoes, polenta is one of the staples that fills out the carbohydrate part of the plate. Often I make up a batch, keep it on hand, and grill or fry it as needed to warm up the inside and crisp the outside.
    A couple of Sundays ago, we had lunch at Le Moulin in Rivel, and this was the starter that some of us went for. Wedge of blue cheese on greens, squiggle of balsamic, nothing too hard about that. But what I did like was the finger of polenta speckled with microscopic bits of black olive, and topped with cherry tomatoes. Think I might copy that one....

Easy Supper for a Steamy Night

Two constants on the menu during this spell of gorgeously hot weather are grilled meats and vegetables and quartered lemons to squeeze over them. 

    A few nights ago, we barbecued about 400 gm of pork that we'd bought at Lavelanet market. I can't remember the name of the cut but it was not one we knew. Long-fibred so we sliced it across the grain. 

    The other components were eggplant that I'd grilled a day or so before, drizzled with olive oil and topped with chopped parsley. The made-up dish of the night was tarted-up couscous. A digression. I am completely in love with couscous. Boil some water, mix in an equal amount of couscous, turn off the heat, cover the pot, leave ten minutes, fluff with a fork, and dress with lemon juice and olive oil. Normally I turn it into tabbouleh with the addition of chopped tomatoes, cucumber, onion, parsley and mint. Oh, yes, and tinily cubed preserved lemon which really wakes up those flavours. This time I added finely chopped dried apricot, pine nuts, grated lemon zest and lots and lots of torn mint and parsley. The roquette, chive and tomato salad came from the garden. Bread and wine. Melon for dessert. A perfect meal for a hot summer night.

Mussels...

I've got sloppier and sloppier about cleaning the wild mussels we buy here. Unlike the cultivated kind, these big roguish bivalves flaunt their marine origins. Cluster of barnacles like miniature pale grey volcanos, dark green hair-like seaweed, a strange white graffiti-like scribble like a fossilized worm...they ain't pretty but they're real.

At one time, I would spend hours scraping each one to smooth perfection. Not any more. Now it's off with anything large and non-clinging, a swift beard removal, a check that they're tightly closed. Any mussel that dares to gape is set aside on the edge of the sink and given a chance to shut up. 

I can't think of an easier dish to cook. You could probably just throw them into a dry pot, clamp on the lid and crank up the heat. I've never tried it. Usually, I simmer a couple of glugs of white wine or beer with chopped onion and garlic. This time I began with a sheen of olive oil. Not much. The onion and garlic went in and about 10 cm of roughly diced hot chorizo. All cooked for about five minutes. Then in with the mussels. Lid on. Seven minutes about or until they all opened. I chopped some chives from the garden over the top and we had them with bread for dipping and a green salad to follow.