p.s. In case you were wondering, that’s not some kind of fancy distressed paintwork going on up there on that chair. It’s the natural kind that happens when someone leaves their non-weatherproofed chair on the rooftop for a few days too many. It was like that when we got here, and I must confess that I kind of like it. A pristine white patio chair could be stressful—exactly the opposite of what summer’s meant to be.
Some people shy away from the kitchen in the summer, but I’ve never lived anywhere hot enough for that to be necessary. Paris is typically a few notches steamier than Vancouver this time of year, but we live in an old stone(?) building with a good cross-breeze. It’s more the prospect of toaster-oven cuisine—not to mention the superior pastry options on every corner—that has kept my cake baking to a minimum.
Not one to avoid the kitchen, I’ve been dabbling in stovetop creations. Pickled things mostly, although yesterday I made some dead-easy vanilla apricot jam with killer flavour. Back to the savoury side for a moment though. Don’t let fear of canning keep you from salt-induced bliss. Instead of squirrelling your pickles away for colder days, just halve the batch or share them with friends.
Now, let’s get pickling: