Welcome to Postcards from Pembrokeshire (28/365)
Today’s Postcard: Two garlic bulbs
Big seas from a night of rough weather. This morning was an early one so Watson Jones led me along the tramway to Wisemans where the waves arrived in the same shape as the knuckle-y rocks that pushed out to meet them. Gnocchi = knuckles too. I hate short-changing our dog with a shorter walk (he gives me the eye on the way back) but some days are full of promises for the next.
Garlic. L’ail in French of course, el ajo in Spanish. In nearby Pays Basque, baratxuriak. Please explain. I love the dangerous stickyness when it is crushed and peeled, one’s fingers become a bit alien to their owner. JG Ballard wrote that if you can smell garlic everything’s all right. My lovely wife is away for a few days on a writers‘ retreat so WJ was in charge of catering. Unlike Eloise he is not a vegetarian so he popped a small chicken into the oven accompanied by a Keith Floyd unmeasured splosh of white wine, Dijon, herbs du potager, beaucoup d’ail and homemade sage and onion which he insisted on chucking Eloise’s olives into. Then with cravat and caraffe he sat on my foot, waiting for supper.
Paint: (on my homemade Ritec Red earth paint): Burnt Umber, Prussian Blue and Ivory Black for the cold lingering darks. Garlic: Dioaxine Purple, Permanent Mauve and Lapis Lazuli, Titanium White, Kings Blue Light; Raw Umber and D. Purple for the stringy roots. Raw Umber is the colour of slowly roasted garlic when squeezed from its papery pouch.
Brush: Size 2 filbert (hog bristle). Size 0 small one for the little bits.
Hope you like the painting. Watson has retired for the evening.