As Butch said, I’ll be back before you can say Blueberry pie. Before the holiday is over I will happily relish the good food that I get to eat each day. I will post photos and a few sentences about what I eat and drink. Considering the study set, this will be string of coffee breaks and dinners cooked by my mother. I don’t care. I’m not in York for a fortnight and that’s all that matters.
Here’s a culinary round up of my thirteenth day away from Yorkshire.
Day 13: Saturday 14/04/2012.
Weather alright appetite okay. Trend: fish
I couldn’t let today go without a mention of sea bass. First off, there was the Grand National, and my grandmother made a (I kid you not) one pound bet on ‘Seabass’. Backing a horse with a pound coin for the Grand National is something that my Nana has done since I can remember, and I like to see it as a fingers up to what is an unbelievably ridiculous sport. The beauty and speed of the horses is incredible, but this race? The inevitability of over half of the horses falling is perverse and it border-lines the sadistic. I’m not a horse lover, I rode one once and cried but ‘destroying’ horses for sport? Replaying each jump to watch it happen from different angles? That never fails to turn my stomach.
Rant aside, third in the Grand National and earning my Nana some loose change, here’s Seabass and jockey ‘Miss’ (Ooh, miss!) Katie Walsh
And then our neighbour, Steve (is everyone called Steve?) knocked on our door with an offering of two fish that he’d caught fishing this morning. This probably occurs twice a year. Another funny coincidence.
I believe that this is plaice.
So we had a sea bass and plaice dinner. The sea bass was fried on an iron griddle pan, just with salt. The plaice was fried/steamed with soya sauce, mirin, and other things so that the final dish was kinda sweet. Served with beans, leeks, carrots and king edward potatoes.
I prefer this sort of sea bass. 4/5.