Today I made tortellini with a mushroom cream sauce, zucchini stuffed with ratatouille, and (seared?) pork tenderloin flavored with parsley, sage, rosemary, and lemon zest. This resulted in a new phenomenon where people around the table (at separate occasions) found themselves wiggling happily in their chairs, fully involved in and focused on the taste of the meal. I’ve found myself doing the same thing while eating at restaurants or while having a good home cooked meal, but I didn’t think my food would be of the same caliber (at least not for a while). Today was another good day.
We also went to the beach today, as per what seems to be the usual routine. This beach was my favorite so far, and although I didn’t get a picture of the main attraction I think I captured the serenity of the scene well enough. It was set in a cove of sorts, which made the water very calm and clear. There were no jellyfish. The pebbles were hot but not sharp. The water was chilly but refreshing, which is the best kind of temperature water can be. Swimming was surreal, like existing in a postcard and loving every minute of it. The hike down to the beach from the parking lot was steep and a bit treacherous for people in flip flops (not me) but completely worth it.
The reason we went was so Sep could jump off a 40-foot rock into the ocean. I jumped off my fair share of cliffs higher than this one while I was in Wales, and I found that the satisfaction of having jumped was not fully worth the built-up anticipation of jumping. I decided to sit this one out, which ended up being fine. Sep and Zizi jumped, Sep three times and Zizi once. I didn’t want to be a know-if-all and tell them how to jump off a cliff properly (how to hold their arms and position their bodies for entry into the wate)r, but when Sep smacked his underarms (not just pits, whole arms) on the water twice, hurting himself, I felt like it was my fault. I told Zizi the proper way to hold her arms before she jumped and the technique helped Sep not antagonize his stinging arms further the third time he jumped. While David and I were waiting for them to work up the courage to jump we met a nice group of Italians, two girls and two moms, who were also jumping off the rock. One of the girls was quite adventurous and I’m pretty sure loved rubbing it in Sep’s face that she was more daring than he by jumping off three times in a row while he was contemplating whether to jump or not.
The real gardener arrived today as well. His name is Dean and he reminds me almost exactly of my helpful, opinionated, entertaining, kind, charismatic, quirky, and often willingly argumentative friend from Hobart who also went to Wales with me. It’s actually a nice reminder of home to have him here, and it also helps because this will be his second summer on the island.
Tomorrow the apricots on the trees outside on the terrace will be ripe. I can’t wait!