My First Meat-Free-Monday: Mixed Pepper Pasta

I meant to post this on Monday, 3 May, but while I was cooking, the insane need to pee immediately gripped me and as I was undoing my pants, my phone fell out of my back pocket into the toilet bowl My need to pee evaporated instantly, and all I could think of was crap, crap, CRAP!!! (no pun intended!) and then silently thanked the cleaning gods that drive me to bleach the loo every second day. At least I didn’t have to fish it out of the bowl with my hands. Needless to say, I tossed the tongs away. Next my brain said get the phone into rice straight away to give it a fighting chance at surviving the water that was slowly infiltrating its innards. Thank the Pope a colleague gifted me a bag last month. Somehow I don’t think she or I thought that an expensive bag of brown basmati rice was going to end up in a plastic Tupperware trying to dry out a phone. Why don’t the cellphone manufacturers make water resistant handsets? Because, from what I’ve heard, cellphones and toilet bowls seem to have an affinity for one another. Next I went to Elizabeth’s house, panic stricken, and tried to dry the phone with the hairdryer on a low heat, and then it went to Chante, whose sister repairs phones. My phone’s board is okay, but the screen needs to be replaced. I don’t have the money for it now, but fortunately Elizabeth has lent me a phone in the meantime. Anyhow, the intended post follows…

Of Wine and Truffles

Yesterday was not a good day. I found out that a bottle of expensive wine that I bought almost a year ago disappeared out of the back of my grocery cupboard. The only thing I can think is that it was taken by the once-off cleaning lady and her companion that came to help me spruce up The Cave during level three of the lockdown. I left them alone for maybe a half hour to go and buy them some groceries as part of their agreed remuneration. It’s not so much the wine, but the memory attached to the bottle. I bought it for the girls’ night Eliza, Carmen and I had when we knew that Carmen was leaving to join Ewan in the Land of the Kiwis. We never got around to drinking it, but we made a pact to drink it together – Eliza and I at her house, with Carmen on a video call. To add insult to injury I felt a migraine setting in late afternoon and I felt all round blegh. Anyway, what’s done is done; there’s nothing I can do about it.

It’s Friday and nobody want to listen to gripes anyway, so I am going to share another kitchen adventure with you.

Days 82 & 83: Turning Mishaps into Masterpieces

If for nothing else, this lockdown has taught me to utilise my kitchen. I am not going to lie – if The Cave didn’t come with a dishwasher included in the rent, I would be living in PB&J sammies, served on paper plates and drinking my coffee out of a paper cup.

Roasted Tomato & Red Pepper Soup

I like to cook.  And bake.  BUT, I must really be in the mood to do so.  Like yesterday – when I finally tried out a recipe I received in one of the daily newsletters to which I subscribe.  The recipe was originally published on Cupcakes & Couscous – a food blog by Teresa Ulyate

I’ve shared the final image with a few friends who’ve asked for the recipe, so here it is, in full, with the photos being my own.  I halved it as it was only for The Toppie, The Bean and I.

Vegan recipe for Roasted Tomato and Red Pepper Soup

Ingredients
16 large tomatoes
4 red peppers
olive oil for drizzling
3 tbsp dried mixed herbs
salt and pepper
1 punnet (20g) fresh basil
1 x 400g tin cannellini beans, drained
4 tbsp tomato purée
1.2 litres vegetable stock (or water)
2 tbsp tamari

How to
Preheat your oven to 190ºC and lightly grease two baking trays.

Quarter the tomatoes and cut the red peppers into thick strips (discard the seeds).

Arrange the tomatoes and peppers on the trays. Drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle the mixed herbs on top and season with salt and pepper.

Bake for 30 minutes.

Allow the tomatoes and peppers to cool slightly. Place in a blender with the basil, beans, tomato purée, veggie stock and tamari.

Blend until smooth.

Transfer the soup to a pot and heat. Check the seasoning, then serve with toasted bread.

It may have been a simple meal, but it left me feeling like an absolute Masterchef!  Honestly, I’m not sure when the urge to cook or bake will strike again, but when it does, I sincerely hope I can replicate the feeling I got from making this soup.