He looked out over the Bay and let it wash over him. It was the first day the sun had been out since a day back in November and all the days of wind, rain and disturbance seemed to dissolve behind him in the rush of light that came in off the water. He took it all in, breathing slowly.

He put his hand in his pocket and his fingers played with the loose change the coins rolling over each other. There was some expectation there, money to spend and things to do. He could start to put behind him some of the day to day mire and think about days in the sun.

There was a voice beside him ‘Feck it’s not the sun that you need but an hour catching fish and then some time listening to feck all being said in the pub.’

‘On a day like today you need to gather things and put them behind you and take your position out there on the water and wait for the fish to come in.’

‘Feck. It is the second week of March now and getting so it is light in the morning and there is time enough in the evening to see what you are doing.’

‘There are mackerel now that’ll be making there way through the water but they won’t be hungary for the hook just yet but give them another week or so and they’ll have a bite at you and that’ll take some weight off you shoulders.’

‘And while we wait for those weeks to pass I’ll buy you a pint and we can talk about mackerel and the waters they swim in.’

Today I have been thinking about aubergines. Maybe it was the sun being out again and the blue skies and my mind jumped, from the possibility of being able to light a barbeque over the next few days if it continues like this, to what I could cook on it.

One of the first things I like to cook over the coals is an aubergine. There is no better way to char its skin and soften up the flesh inside.

The thinking was going on as I dozed in my seat on a train on the way back from London. I briefly put pen to paper and started to make out a list in orange ink of the various dishes I could cook. I wanted to get to a dozen. Once I had done that then each dish would have enough variations going on from it I should in theory end up with an infinite number of aubergine options.

I got to 10 as follows:-

Fried slices of aubergine with sage, lemon & garlic

Aubergine puree with garlic, yogurt and tahini

Aubergine pieces roasted with peppers, onions and tomatoes mixed to make a salad

Aubergines in a stew with chick peas

Whole roasted aubergines with oil, dill and feta cheese

An aubergine soup with tomatoes

Crisped fried slices of aubergine

Fried aubergine with honey

Aubergine with pomegranate

Aubergine with lamb chops

Aubergine puree with minced lamb

Almost enough for a book?

Today has been warmer and more sunny than yesterday.

We went out for a walk in the afternoon along the beach off Leasowe. The tide was out and in the sun the water seemed flat and distant. It was only two months ago that the wind was whipping it up over the dunes.

There were plenty of people about but it was the dogs who were having the most fun chasing each other through the water. There was the odd child scurrying after its parents in bare feet and wet trousers having been seduced by the sun being out to go have a paddle. One was dressed as a bedraggled Batman and was looking disconsolate over the dunes looking for somewhere to play more suitable to his superhero status.

After that lunch was another roast chicken courtesy of The Farmer’s Market and a Leek & Gorgonzola Tart made with filo pastry. The tart was straightforward to make. Half a dozen leeks, sliced and cooked in butter and then mixed with some white wine, cream cheese and then the Gorgonzola. The tart was made by layering sheets of filo pastry into a tart tin with a brief scatter of parmesan cheese.

When I took the chicken out of its roasting tin one its wings was left behind – cook’s treat.

Last night I fell asleep watching a documentary on Mott the Hoople. They were a proper sweaty 1970’s band playing guitars that made a loud noise. Somewhere I have a greatest hits from when they were on Island Records which over the years has found its way on to my iPod shuffle. There are about 30,000 songs on there so I never know what is going to come next. I was driving somewhere around the Wirral a few years ago and one of the songs that came on was At The Crossroads. It was so good I had to put it on twice – and roll the windows down – and then put it on again.

Almost as good as the bacon sandwich this morning. One of the butchers at The Farmer’s Market always gas a few packs of off-cut bacon going cheap. There are no proper slices just misshapen odds and ends but that doesn’t make any difference to how it tastes. If I put it in a pan on a low heat there is just about enough time to go out and get a paper before it needs turning.

I had it between two slices of crisp toast with a good dollop of brown sauce.