I’d planned for a perfect summer dish, a mango spicy salad that combined my favourite flavours of tart limes, fiery chilies and stinky fish sauce. And I was pretty certain that all four of my kids wouldn’t say ‘no’ to it. During the weekend when the hubs was home to mind the kids, I made my grocery trip – in peace – and bought green mangoes and some mint leaves. But by the time I was ready to use them, my mint leaves were on their last legs. Once bright, they’d turned a lackluster brown while my firm, green mangoes sported a distinct blush and dare I say, even felt soft to the touch. Undeterred, I didn’t change my menu but thriftily salvaged what was left of the blackened mint leaves by keeping the brownish-green bits for the intended salad. Ugh. My shredded mangoes were a pulpy sweet mess and I ended up with worm soup rather than crunchy salad. The other supporting vegetables like the cucumbers, salad leaves and green peppers tried valiantly to hold it together but it was futile. There was nothing attractive about the dish and neither was the darkened expression on Monique’s face which rivaled the shade of the mint leaves in the trash.
The 2 pineapples that I’d bought 4 days ago were also in on the fruit & vegetables revolt. One had a weepy bottom even if the rest of it stayed firm and green. I wasn’t ready to use them for pineapple jam just yet as I was hoping a gradual ripening that would enhance the sugar concentration. Unfortunately, the pineapples had more pressing plans. Upon slicing them open, the insides were a dull brown which made me suspect that the fruits were possibly ruined during cold storage at the shops. Bah.
The only success I did have was my baked light rye bread which I sat down to enjoy. Thickly sliced and still warm, I smeared on my preferred orange marmalade spread. Ah! Nourishment for dampened spirits.
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