We are adrift on a sea of Swiss Chard.
I came home to find our neighbour had gifted yet more chard from his allotment to us. It was sitting in a sandwich bag, looking increasingly depressed on the work surface above the boiler. I should be grateful but it's difficult because there is so bloody much of the stuff.
The chard appears because a couple of years ago the landlady expressed a liking for it. I wouldn't mind but I cannot stand it and she is barely around at the moment. I have a sneaking suspicion that a couple of extra hectares of the communal allotment area has been devoted to its production in her honour. Even the grower admits he hates it!
So there is all this chard, more of which appears daily like the straw in Rumpelstiltskin. (Gmail wants to change that to multi-tasking btw)
I got quite excited when a friend said "Oh but I have a brilliant recipe for chard. Honestly once you try this you will love it." Could this be the sound of a Rumpelstiltskin entering my life to turn the straw into culinary gold?
Yes well everything tastes better when it is drowned in garlic and a pint of double cream.
So the chard mountain grows and I cannot turn it down as the rest of the summer holds many veggie delights. Even the slugs don't like it and when the slugs don't want it, you know have problems.