A squidge of lemon would have been nice...
"It smells like sardines in here." He said.
The idea had been collecting all afternoon. The long oval plate perched on the shelf of the buffet. The tiny bunch of baby greens. Those sweet, juicy, multi-colored heirloom cherry tomatoes from the farmers market. Our first cucumber from the garden (a bit squatty in size, this one). Thin slices of red onion (onion in almost everything, it seems we love onion). Chunks of sardine. That lovely little green pepper (we're managing lots of green peppers this year from our lone plant sitting full sun). Tiny green olives floating in a jar in the door of the fridge. Pine nuts. Oh, what am I forgetting? Yes, that's right. A good squidge of lemon! Forgotten. But plenty of fruity olive oil, red wine vinegar, salt and pepper. A grate or two of parmesan. And a chiffonade of basil (we've been eating lots of basil lately).
A midweek salad.
I placed a wedge or two of peach, skin on, into what was left of my glass of red. Smashing it with the back of my fork to release the sugars.
"Dessert." I said.