The almost perfect roast

After a few days of grey, today was gloriously blue. Once more the raincoat was put away and the shorts came out. The house was opened up and the general feeling and smell of damp was gradually replaced with springtime warmth and the preferable scent of freshness. Honestly, it was a magnificent day.

My knee has been quite sore for the last few days, so we decided to have an easy day around the house and garden. Mirinda created her very own garden office while I sat on the terrace.

Apart from a brief time in the house to record and publish my podcast, the day was spent outside.

At about 4:30, Mirinda took the girls on her Three Lakes Walk while I started preparing then cooking the pork with green butter I mentioned in yesterday’s post. By the time Mirinda returned, the whole house was full of the aroma of roast.

And, according to Mirinda, the roast was fantastic. The only thing missing was the crackling. The rest, however, was delicious. And, even though I cooked it, I can only agree. It marks the first roast I’ve made here, and it worked perfectly. I was well chuffed.

I reckon today was the most perfect Swedish day. I guess you have to suffer the awful in order to have the lovely. Even without the crackling.

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