following hamfest 2006 in the dusty brown, we drove back to the green(ish) city, and i promptly fried up a wok of noodles with four kinds of green vegetables, to accompany fat fillets of salmon crusted with sesame furikake. not two days later i was thinking about what to make for lunch, and most unexpectedly, the thought that popped into my head was: ham and tomato sandwich.

that time, i think i settled for sliced tomatoes on bread-and-butter — they might even have been yellow tomatoes. but a few days ago, as i ate a pretty good sandwich, i said to the boy, “d’you know what would go really well with this turkish bread, hommous, baba ghanouj, tomato and rocket?”

he only hesitated the slightest moment before replying, “what?”

“lamb!” i said.

“that would be good,” he said, before heading into the kitchen and rummaging around the fridge. “and here’s a piece of grilled lamb right here, from last night!”

it was even dusted in cumin.

minutes later he sat on the couch taking large boy-bites out of his sandwich, constructed exactly as i had described. mine was still good, but maybe not quite as good. “is it delicious?” i asked.

“yes.”

he was kind enough to buy a packet of lamb chops the evening before his road trip, and we had them on the balcony — salted and peppered before being thrown on the barbeque — with fried rice, because i hadn’t known that he was bringing home the meat. there was enough left over for a lamb sandwich encore the next night, with a side of swedish dillchips that kind deborah brought me from ikea weeks ago.

i had been saving them for a special occasion; and here it was, with boy and kid somewhere in newcastle, and me on my balcony on a cool summer evening with the peace, quiet and a copy of “the new yorker” for company.