I miss vegetables. We're 600 miles from the mainland, so importing them is expensive, and the farms in the highlands don't seem to produce more than a few wilted herbs.
Yesterday I started daydreaming about vege stir-fries, dragon bowls at the Naam, and my mom's caesar salad. I mentioned it, and apparently I'm not the only extranero with a longing.
Fabio the Italian drew an artichoke in the sand. He eats the leaves raw with salt and quarters the heart with a knife, he says. He flies home tomorrow, presumably to wait for the first artichokes of spring.
Tubias the Dane craves asparagus. He likes them steamed in salt water, dressed in butter, and topped with black truffle.
Strangely, what I want most is celery.
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