Seems like our fruit and nut man has left the Saturday market for good - not that it’s good from our point of view, though the raw peanuts that we bought at the supermarket and J roasted were much nicer than commercially roasted. And we didn’t have to clean off the salt. Sadder, the fruit and veg man was there - rearranging the strawberries, J points out, with maximum hands on - and he didn’t have local garlic either, though he usually does. So garlic from the supermarket it will have to be. It’s not from China though appears as travel weary as if it were. In the end we only buy eggs from the friendly egg and honey lady. She’s also selling hand woven baskets this week. Very attractive and sparking nursery rhyme illustration images of self going to market with basket on arm rather than sturdy plasticised bags from Sainsbury’s and Aldi’s. But wouldn’t fold away nicely for travel. Sunny morning and large dog napping peacefully on the market tiles.
J notes that friendly orchard owner across the road from us has his beehive shaped outdoor oven operating. Kleftiko? And we haven’t heard the two goats he keeps in the tiny shed next to the oven today. Have always thought their quarters too small for happy living, but at least they were living. Recognise that most Cypriots, and indeed most farmers everywhere, take a pretty unsentimental view of animals. The best that could have been hoped for from the goats’ point of view is that they were being kept for dairy and not meat. And in fact we’ve eaten goat kleftiko - pretty well indistinguishable from lamb and very nice so who are we to criticise?
Do remember being in Tunisia at Eid and seeing the street gutters running with sheep’s blood just before the feast day. And friendly neighbour seems pretty handy and quite possibly up to doing his own butchering. But this is early in Ramadan - an odd time for dispatching a largish animal. Try not to think about it until, as we’re preparing our own evening meal we hear the familiar sound of bleating goat. The inevitable postponed.