“I think I’m turning Japanese, I think I’m turning Japanese”

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This is the year that, after almost a lifetime of rehearsal, I take the packed lunch to the most satisfactory height : greatly helped by the procurement of a set of wooden bowls. Here above a salad selection, grated carrots (Hubert’s), frozen green beans, goat cheese and sun-dried tomatoes with a sprinkling of savoury Granola (recipe from Clotilde Dussoulier at Chocolate & Zucchini) (n.b. packed lunch photographed on the table at home as I truanted out of college that day as the car would not start).

This is also the year that, waking up early one morning and about to start into my bowl of wholegrain porridge I grabbed the bottle of Tamari instead of the Agave syrup and poured a generous glug in. I did eat it, although it did not taste quite right to me then. A couple of months later, planning to abandon porridge as I had grown increasingly unhappy with sweetness over breakfast I decided to switch to Tamari (there is no such thing as an accident) as I had survived the chance experiment earlier. Truth be told I am now really fond of my “Japanese” breakfast, the complexity of the fermented taste most satisfying at the earliest hour.

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