I have some news.
Not this Friday gone but the one before, I wrote about our imminent trip to Italy. I posted a picture of one of my favourite views in the world. And I talked about how, while I enjoy new experiences and adventures, there’s something wonderfully comforting about the familiar, returning to somewhere you know and love and going through the tried and tested motions of experiences you’ve lived a thousand times before.
What I failed to mention, or realize at the time, is that it’s perfectly possible to combine the two.
Last Monday morning, after a long weekend of scorching sunshine, the weather wasn’t looking great. As someone who may well have been a lizard in a pre-loaf life, I wasn’t too impressed with this turn of events. And having known me for over seven years, Carnivorous Boyfriend was perfectly aware of this fact. So when he invited me outside after breakfast to ‘do a sun dance’, it felt like a pretty sensible suggestion (some people might have found this request a little odd. Not me. My aforementioned obsession with the sun means I’m open to pretty much anything that will encourage a few extra rays).
I obediently stepped out onto the terrace, only to be told that we had to do the dance at the edge of the garden. The grass looked pretty scratchy after weeks without water in the baking sun, and not knowing what kind of creepy crawlies might be lurking within I told him I wasn’t going anywhere without any shoes. At which point he plucked me off my feet and carried me across the lawn.
And then he dropped down on one knee and proposed to me.
So Carnivorous Boyfriend is now Carnivorous Fiancé. I’m marrying my favourite person in the whole wide world and I’m literally bursting with happiness. In hindsight, my lack of shoes upped the ante on the romance front as he whisked me across the lawn, but even without I can’t think of a more perfect place to be proposed to, on top of a mountain, in an incredible place that feels almost as much a part of me as he does.
There’s only so much gushing I can fit into one post, so I’m finishing up with a super simple recipe. We’ve been doing a lot of celebrating over the last week and, while champagne has featured heavily, I think this is one of my favourite ways to enjoy fizz. Prosecco is a little lighter, brighter and less yeasty than champagne, and paired with the juice of ripe white peaches, it’s pretty close to my idea of perfection.
I didn’t manage to get a shot of these bellinis – it was dark when we drank them and I was enjoying myself far too much to stop and take photos – but this drink is pale, delicate and delicious, topped with a soft mousse of gently breaking bubbles. Flat peaches are what were available in our local greengrocer, but any white peach would work wonderfully.
I’m sure I’ll be drinking a fair few of these over the coming weeks. And yes, once the initial celebrations are over I will be starting some serious investigations into wedding cake. All suggestions welcome
White Peach Bellini (inspired by The River Cafe)
(makes 6 drinks)
8-10 ripe white peaches (I used flat peaches but any white peach would be delicious)
1 bottle Prosecco, chilled
Rinse, stone and finely chop the peaches, skin and all. Place chopped fruit in a blender and pulse to a thick pureé then pour into a fine meshed sieve or muslin and press as much of the juice through as possible.
Divide the pureé between six champagne flutes, top with prosecco and serve.