Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

I have a complaint. It is Bank Holiday here, so, in need of provisions and with a sudden desire for apricots, I was obliged to go to the supermarket. I don’t do it often. It depresses me. But that isn’t the complaint…

I really didn’t need much; it was mainly the dog who needed supplies, but I thought I would grab some fresh stuff while I was there…you know, a few vegetables, some fruit…nothing out of the ordinary. Wandering round the produce section, the temperature began to rise.

I live alone and, in spite of the recalcitrant waistline, I eat very little. There are only so many portions of anything that I can eat and many summer fruits and vegetables do not keep well. I learned to shop for fresh produce in France, where ingredients are taken seriously and shopping is a tactile exercise. I can feel ripeness and…