August has, thus far, been hit and miss as far as weather is concerned. Fourteen degrees one day, twenty seven the next. An unpredictable month calls for a very mixed diet indeed. Cravings have altered from dishes of hot lentil soup, to bright and fresh Greek salads in matters of twenty four hours.
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At the age of nine, my family and I took a summer holiday to the Algarve, Portugal. It was my first holiday abroad and to a country I really knew nothing about.
There are two things I remember eating on this trip. One being a huge plate of fresh sardines accompanied only with a simple salad. This lunch, being a child, was certainly a challenge. The fish served whole appeared to be staring at me beadily and I was required to pick through their bony bodies in order to consume them. Still, I persevered and to my surprise it turned out to be not a too traumatic experience.
The second however, was something rather glorious. My mum had told me of the almond cakes and orange cakes that were abundant in Portuguese cafes, and I remember not feeling too overwhelmed about the prospect of these flavours. I was bought a slice of orange cake which I ate outside in the sun. It was nothing like the cake in Britain, and I have eaten nothing like it since. The flavours were more intense. It was sticky and citrusy and moist. Somewhere between a dessert and a cake. It was delicious. Thinking back on it now, it makes sense for the Portuguese to create something so light and vibrant; imagine chewing on a piece of Victoria sponge in thirty degree heat…
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