The weather continues warm, though we had a pleasantly cool start to the day, so I was able to give Sally a decent run along the towpath whilst Sheila trekked into the shops. There, as well as settling for an i, she got some stuff from the Farm Shop. She'd either left it too late or gone too soon; the paper shop had sold both the Independents they had had, but the fresh bread and Scotch eggs had yet to be delivered to the Farm Shop.
No matter, the one Scotch egg they had left didn't look very special, apparently, so she got some pork sausages with garlic and black pepper. I'll grill them in advance, and then we can have them cold with salad. Apart from the meat, she also got some nice cherry tomatoes, and some new potatoes. These last are not very special looking, but the only really baby ones in stock had come from Israel, which seems crazy. Why import from the other end of the Med when UK farms are now in full production?
It seems odd in an establishment calling itself a Farm Shop, too, which to me implies locally grown produce.
No matter, the place is still worth a visit, though it's on the pricey side for other groceries. For example, the Cawston Press premium apple juice, which was selling at £2.05 a litre in Rugeley Morrisons the other day, was £2.65.
As may be imagined, since then we have been lurking, either in the boat, or baking our brains on the well deck. When I've posted this, Sheila is going to give me a haircut, then I'll trim my beard and have a very welcome shower.
Tomorrow, we'll move on a bit, through Stafford to above Deptmore Lock, probably, finally going on to Penkridge on Saturday, for our dog collecting rendezvous with Elanor on Sunday.
1 comment:
TWO copies of the Indie. Does that make them one of the leading retailers?? (Not sure if I can add a smiley)
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