What cold be more orange that these gorgeous Spanish oranges. The very sight of them makes me salivate remembering how they tasted. How come we never seem to get really juicy oranges these days?
I never did find out why these young monks were changing their robes in the street by the Grand Palace in Bangkok, but they did it discreetly and looked decidedly pleased when they had accomplished the task.
I’m a sucker for anything that looks ‘local’ even though I know I shall never use it when I get home, but in my minds eye I can see me producing succulent food smelling of rosemary and garlic, mint and oregano, the whole resting on a bed of peppery olive oil and maybe some ciabbata. Dream on. I get home, realize it’s another foolish buy and it ends up at the back of the cupboard. But I love the orange colour of these dishes and yes, I did buy some.