Fish

Seared tuna with spinach and a sortof caponata

I have fallen in love again. Head over heels. The latest victim of my affections makes me feel so young and alive. I’m sorry for sounding smug and I know this must be sickening to read. But you can have this too if you want; it’s not hard. In fact, you can buy it for £10 at Lilywhites. Continue reading

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Fish soup

Empirical pedantry is probably my favourite form of linguistic pedantry. When someone asks me “what do you know about X?”, I like to respond with something like: “Do we really know anything? Have you read Hume or Bertrand Russell? Clearly not. But what I can say is that I have been told X is quite [insert adjective]”. This is potentially why every conversation I have takes thrice the amount of time it should but I think people prefer accuracy to brevity. Continue reading

Spiced red mullet with a fennel, preserved lemon and rocket salad.

My flatmate and I have a wonderful cleaner who comes in occasionally to make sure we aren’t living in a mouse-infested cesspit. You see, I’m incredibly untidy by nature… although, I like to think I’m not an awful person to live with because most of my mess is contained in a 10m x 10m pit of yesterday’s coffee and dirty clothes that I call my room. Continue reading

Crispy-skin salmon, braised kale and cannellini bean purée

I’m very tired today. I’m not sure whether it’s because of the two hours I spent at the gym, which I am writing about now because it never happens and I want everyone to know how virtuous I’ve been today, or whether it’s from the emotional stress of transfer deadline day, which I’m writing about because I want everyone to think I’m a cool girl who likes football. Which I am. I promise. Continue reading

Tricolore! Salsa Verde! Arugula, cod and peppers

Saying things in Italian is just more fun. I don’t know if it’s from watching A Fish Called Wanda so many times or because Italian waiters are always happy to bring you olives and bread and limoncello. Even when they’re sad, they’re still trying to give you limoncello. Or maybe it’s just a very fun language, but pretending to speak Italian makes me giddy. Continue reading