You know you’re starting to be recognized when you go to the Saturday market and start swapping cooking tips with stallholders. Today, for instance, during an enlivened chat with the olive people, I was told that drizzling truffle infused olive oil over freshly made scrambled eggs is delicious. And I can vouch for it. Almost as soon as I returned home, I tried it.
When asked what I do with infused olive oil, I told them that I drizzle it over my thick, homemade soups. They, in their turn, said they’d have to try that. I forgot to tell them about the clementine oil on ice cream. I’ll have to remember next week.
The olive people do lots of things with olives. They stuff some with all sorts (garlic, almonds, feta being my favourites) and make infused oils with others. As well as truffles, they also infuse basil, garlic and chilli. But they don’t just sell olives (and olive related products) they also have lots of different antipasti.
But it wasn’t just the olive people that I swapped ideas with this morning. The meat man also gave me a tip on how to cook venison cutlets, while I told him what I do with big pork chops.
And, just to show that we don’t just swap cooking tips, after he’d totted up my bill he said “1947” to which I responded with “That was probably a good year. I mean, the war had ended.“
“People were probably a lot happier,” He replied.
“Mind you, there was still rationing.“
“Good point.“
“Though I wasn’t born.“
“Me either.“
“Couldn’t have been that good then!” I said with a big wink. He laughed as I walked on to the fruit and veg stall.
I am very impressed with the general size of the market patronage. Lots of customers, buying lots of locally produced food (and various other things). It almost makes up for the traffic.
But, back to the chat. Something else that makes people talk to me is one specific t-shirt I wear. I bought it at a Sarah McQuaid gig we went to years ago.
Anyway, just as I reached the church and was about to enter the graveyard for the walk home, a chap sitting on a bench stopped me, saying he wanted to read my t-shirt. I stopped and he read it aloud. He looked quizzical, so I told him the whole story. He smiled and nodded.
In an effort at full disclosure, I actually wrote a post about a man with a ukulele reading my t-shirts back in 2022. The story about the shirt is written there.
And, while out walking with Mirinda this afternoon, (Emma is still in season) Freya was hailed by a familiar voice. It was Mark, our old postman from Farnham saying “I recognize that dog!” Such a coincidence.
Oddly, though, Mark reckoned that Lymington was a lovely, quiet town.
