Now anyone with sense will tell you that eating the fruit bowl can be as sugary as devouring three handfuls of Haribo. Magpie gets her fruit and veg delivered by Parent Express (which isn’t express at all as they live 26 miles away). It is the best quality possible, bought from a market stall where the Old Bat works on a Wednesday and thrown into a box when she has five seconds to do so.
The Old Bat brought the veg on Thursday night this time, accompanied by the newest addition to the family: tiny collie sheepdog in training, Belle. Since the pup took up all the attention, Magpie didn’t notice that the strawberries were attempting to ferment until the following day. The only solution was to throw them into the food processor with a spotty banana, a nectarine and a few dollops of yoghurt.
A seedy drink in a glass it was; but it was also most of the fruit bowl, so no solid breakfast was needed. The strawberries were Scottish, and not as sweet as last week’s but with a little additional honey, they were clean and fresh in the glass and decidedly better nutritionally, than slaked in chantilly cream.