My larders had been largely cleared out midsummer for tastings, talks and parties. So I started a lot of projects, all of which appear to have come to fruition at exactly the same moment, on a single plate for breakfast, on an ordinary weekday.
Clockwise from 6, there's my first bread made from hand milled flour. Dense, a little gritty, and lightly sour, it is actually phenomenally tasty. Then there's the last batch of pickles, which did indeed make it through the summer heat on the counter. Still crunchy. Then the coppa, actually not sure what it should be called. Cured pig parts, stuffed into casings. Chewy but sweet and a little smokey from something else in the wine fridge. And taste a little like the GoG's fingers. Then my last cheese, rather hard, a little like kashkaval I think. Piquant and crumbly too. Incidentally oiling the rind (after Vincenzo Tanaza's 17th c. directions) does work. And lastly an experiment. Kimmy and Brett's mission figs, a whole shopping bag, boiled down with a little sugar, spread on parchment paper and left outside to dry to a solid paste. Rolled up and sliced. Serious fig mojo.
Is it serendipity or planning? A little of both. Be sure to stop by for a nibble before it's all gone, that's all I can say.