‘Can you remember your first mackerel and where you caught it?’

I tried to cast my mind back to where I had been. There are two fishings trips that I went on when mackerel might have been caught.

The first was on a glorified barge that went out into one of the slabs of water that the Dutch were claiming back from the sea. I might have been nine or ten and I guess it was one of the holidays we spent time in Renesse a small village cum summer resort that sits on the west coast of one of the islands down from Rotterdam a great swathe of sand facing out to the North Sea.

We sat on the black roof of the barge and dropped a line over the side but all I can remember are flat fish coming out of the watrer and there weren’t many of them.

Next it was a holiday in Cornwall staying near Polzeath. I was twelve or thirteen and we were there for my birthday and I was given a small cassette player and a tape of one double albums with all The Beatles’ singles on them. Stupidly one day we swam across the river Camel from Rock to Padstow and almost got washed out to sea and had to hold onto a buoy halfway across to get our breathe back and the next day we took a fishing boat out fom Padstow  and went fishing or the day.

As the boat pulled out of the harbour there were gannets in the air and they came down around the boat following us out until we a mile os so out and the lines went out. I can’t actually remember the catching of mackerel but I know that fish were caught and if fish are going to be caught in a place like that then some of them must have been mackerel. I caught a flurry of fish at the start of the trip and then there was an hour os so of catching nothing.

Whatever fish we caught were taken back to the cottage we were staying in and we had a go eating them that evening. We were given a small dogfish to take with us and its skin was tough and I am not sure we were able to eat any of it.

It would be another twenty years before I went fishing again and that was to throw a line over the side of a boat in Dunmannus Bay to haul in mackerel.

Everyone needs a few guilty pleasures in their life.

Mine include Fleetwood Mac, Lynyrd Skynyrd and the very occasional bit ELO. On the food front I find that it is difficult to go wrong with a tin of Heinz Baked Beans and sometimes my eye will be caught by a Pot Noodle and nothing will be right again until I have it home with me and I am stirring it together with a fork.

This afternoon I was at the till and getting ready to pay at Sainsbury’s. The food was loaded on the conveyor and I was suddenly taken with the thought that there was no point buying a pack of pitta bread without having some bright pink taramasalata to go with it. So I had to rush back to the aisles to find a plastic carton.

I had it as soon as I got home. Toasting a piece of pitta, slicing it up still warm and then dipping each piece into the pink salty goo.

I followed that with another pitta stuffed with some of the lamb kebab left over from last night, slathered with yogurt and chilli sauce.

The marinade for the lamb kebabs came from the new Morito cookbook, it was just squashed garlic, cumin and oil. I sliced up some green peppers to go on the wooden sticks next to the pieces of lamb.

We ate it with an onion salad, made by roasting the onions on the barbeque and then sliding them out of their burnt skins and mixing them up with pomegranate seeds and olive oil and mint, and a tabbouleh made mostly with parsley, fried potatoes and quail’s eggs.

It has been a grey Saturday today.

We woke at 8.00 to the sound of thunder. It rumbled through our closed eyes and our dreams the sound of a heavy wardrobe being pulled along the pavement filling the air over the house. Then came the rain. Great spats of it against the window. I opened the curtains and lay down in bed again watching it come down.

It stopped for a while during the morning and there was time to go into Birkenhead without getting wet. For the second week running I was too late for the razor clams from Wards. i will need to get up earlier next week if I want them for a Father’s Day treat.

In the International Store I bought myself a hunk of lamb, for kebabs on the barbeque (optimistic despite the rain) and bulgar wheat for a summer tabbouleh.

For lunch I found myself some mouldy cheese in the basement left over from the large party we had hosted three weeks ago. I had forgotten to put it in the fridge and it had developed a deep green layer of mould. I was able to scrape it off with a sharp knife and it did for cheese on toast with piccalilli.

Over the afternoon the garden was too wet to do anything so all there was to do was potter in the green house. I shifted the tomato plants and potted out the one padron pepper plant that has deigned to come up.

The rain has flattened everything in the garden and it is looking fat and green.

As I write there are four onions roasting on the barbeque and Volume 5 of London is the place for me.  A compilation of Calypso music from the 1960’s.