Lord, it's my wife announcing she got me a goody while out shopping. Hearing her, I hope she got me a mille feuille at Ceci Cela! No friends, instead my wife brought me a pound of sardines from Portugal. It's okay. I didn't have lunch after my oeuf brouille. Frugally, I noshed on some blistered peanuts and a beer till she arrived and set the shiny delicate fish on our table to grill and garnish with whatever groceries we might have left in the fridge.
That's not such a daunting task with sardine, as you can grill, poach, or even salt them for a quick crudo. Those shiny devils marry with virtually anything. When I was fortunate enough to cook at Abracadabra in Istanbul, my request for anchovies was badly translated, leading someone to buy beautiful sardines which we grilled, garnished with some fine olive oil, salad and some tapenade.
From what was left in my larder this evening, I made a potato salad with peppers pan fried in olive oil and doused with vinegar and herbs. My cat immediately noticed the lovely results, circling from every angle of the table and crying out with a few miserable meows begging for a taste! Never you mind, a glass of Minervois and I was set.
Last thing: the title to this post may make no sense at all except for the fact that it has sardine in it. It's from a flamenco artist Manitas de Plata,who's song, "El no-no, recounts the story of a woman, sardines and betrayal!