A few weeks ago, I went out
with some old friends from college. The meeting came about as a sort of reunion
between me (2010 – 2012 spent sitting in various bedrooms on my laptop) and
R (2010 – 2012 spent backpacking her way across the world and then living
in Australia, where she long-boarded to work and got her nose pierced).
I was worried that R might come back to the UK Victoria
Luckily, she was still R – funny, nice and normal! The meeting was also very exciting because on
Christmas eve, R had met a guy in a pub and had invited him along to join
us all. This was particularly thrilling because it meant I wouldn’t be the
awkward friend who nobody had seen for a while. Instead, I would be the friend
that everyone had spent the last hour with; basically a piece of the friendship
group’s furniture!
So, the date guy (A)
arrives and he is very nice. I have switched to present tense now because it’ll
make you feel like you were there (to punish you via passive-aggressive means
for me having to read Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall). A works as a postman and we
chat about how ideal a job it must be and wow, you walk around all day and
probably listen to Radio 4 podcasts on your headphones and wear shorts. I
explain that my dad's cousin once had a sort of “midlife crisis” and left his
job as a solicitor to become a postman and we all say “wow, he definitely has
the right idea”.
The night is going well, so
we move on to another bar to drink some cocktails. We all order and we’re
standing at the bar, waiting. A few people have left now, so it is only me,
R and A, the date guy. I start to panic a bit because the less people
there are in a social situation, the more pressure there is on you to talk and
be funny. He obviously already likes R because he is on a date with her.
So the stakes are high for me because unless I am nice or funny or something,
he probably won’t like me.
So, I decide to ask him a
question about himself: “Do you have to work six days a week then? Because we
get post on Saturdays, don’t we? Um…”
Immediately, I realise what a
shit, shit, shit question I have asked. We have already covered his job, in
depth. We have moved on from lunch and are now well into the evening, where one
wants to forget about work and talk about fun things.
“Oh, um sorry, I know that
sounds like a mundane question,” I squirm “like I’m just making conversation
but um, well I do actually want to know…the answer.”
They both look at me, puzzled.
I must make a bit of a funny face because R quickly pipes up “Laura, it’s
okay to make conversation; that’s why we’re here!” and it sounds so simple! Of
course that is why we are here – to talk about stuff – anything!
That must have been something
she had learnt whilst travelling and I briefly consider whether I should go
travelling so I can learn some more of these wise, old life lessons. No, I tell
myself, don’t be silly but do take note of this shrewd little nugget and have a
pleasant evening, where you just say stuff! And so I did! And if what I said
was a bit rubbish, we all just had a laugh about it!
Towards the end of the
evening, things began to get so laidback that A started telling “cheesy”
jokes and because we could just say what we wanted to say without having to
issue instant apologies, we all laughed along!
One such “cheesy” joke was as
follows:
Q: What did the cheese say when
he looked in the mirror?
A: Halloumi!
I made a halloumi salad to
take to work the other day and wow, it was good. It’s quite dry, which I tend
to find with lentil dishes generally but for a salad that needs to be robust
enough to transport to work each day and last the week without going soggy,
it’s perfect.
I was unsure whether I should
delete the hedonistic drawl above and just make this post an ode to halloumi. Naaaaah…but in tribute to the wonder cheese, here are
some halloumi facts:
Halloumi is from Cyprus !
Halloumi has a higher-than-average melting point, which
means it can be fried or grilled without turning into gunk!
Delia erroneously says of halloumi: “Not the most exciting cheese to nibble”!
Halloumi tastes very salty
before cooking and quite salty after cooking!
This salad is easy. I
wouldn’t say that if it wasn’t because I am lazy and so I know how this kind of
stuff works.
The recipe was from the good old BBC but I will write my version out here anyway because I changed quite a bit.
Ingredients
1 punnet of cherry tomatoes,
halved
1 red onion, finely sliced
1 garlic clove, crushed
Half a lemon, juiced (or if
you use the ready-made stuff, 1 tbsp of lemon juice)
1 tbsp olive oil
150g green lentils
1 pack of halloumi cheese
(buy any sort you want – light, chilli infused etc.), chunked – a word I just
invented, meaning cut into chunks.
Some coriander, roughly
chopped
Onion, tomatoes and garlic
into a large bowl (or Tupperware if you’re not planning to eat it all freshly
cooked). Olive oil and lemon juice and toss (read: mix a bit). Leave to stand
while you cook the lentils, so the flavours infuse.
 |
| Here are the flavours, infusing. |
So keep an eye on them. Having
made this dish again, I would say that you should put in as much water as the
packet requires and boil for 10 minutes, turn down to a simmer for 10ish
minutes more and as soon as there is very little/no water left, take it off the
heat and drain, swill, drain. Plonk them into your onion/tomato mix.
You can start to grill your
halloumi while the lentils are cooking. If you’re not going to eat the dish
right away, then don’t panic because you don’t need the halloumi to be warm. If
you’re eating it straight away, then get the halloumi on the fucking grill
asap!
Season your salad and mix in
the coriander. Once the halloumi is golden, you can mix that in too! Serve
immediately if you want to eat it right away and if you’re storing it, wait for
the halloumi and lentils to cool before snapping on the lid and refrigerating.
This gives you four fairly
small portions. It would make a nice supper for two, with leftovers for one (I
reckon).
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