on a day when there happens to be a block of feta in the fridge, as well as eggs and milk, it may pop into your head that a feta omelette needs to be had. and if you were also reading a particular foodblog that morning, it might spur you on to ensure that such an omelette would be had for lunch.

and so such and such were placed in a pan, and topped with a couple handfuls of incidental rocket (sadly, supermarket rocket, which seemed to have no taste of rocket, or anything), and then folded over and plopped onto some soy-linseed sourdough. and a forgotten jar of pickled beetroot at the bottom-back of the fridge was happy to oblige.

but why so lucky as to have feta in the fridge? it’s just that when my mother was here the other month, one of the things she left me was two slimy mackerel in the freezer. bet that mackerel thought that calling itself “slimy” would be some sort of deterrent, a survival tactic. HAHA fishy, the joke’s on you! we will eat you nonetheless, for you are not only not slimy, but quite meaty and tasty, with that feeling between my molars, of oily fish.

“just brush them with olive oil and season with salt and pepper,” said my mother before she boarded that plane home, and so i did. while the boy cooked them up on the balcony barbeque, i roasted some thick slices of desiree potato and threw together a greekish-nicoiseish salad of cucumber, green beans, the afore-mentioned rocket, some oven-roasted grape tomatoes and smooth creamy feta. mmm…