It is the Summer; and thus it is cold, and raining, and generally bloody miserable, weather wise.
In the fridge I have some peapods – mostly empty, because Pete got to the bowl of peas, but still. I have a plan for these pods tonight, which I shall reveal to you later. I need some chicken stock for this plan, and I was just going to use an organic stock cube.
But … I also have a bunch of carrots that need using. And the chickie! remains from June were in the freezer, enrobed in tin foil. So the carcass is now sitting on a very low heat on the hob, and I shall take some stock from it for tonight’s supper, and the rest will be turned into shoop, with the carrots and some elderly spud.
Hurrah for the British summer, I say, and bring on the warming soup.