
Right now I've got basil in a pot that is threatening to take over my front stoop. I bought a basil plant from the supermarket.
I usually hate supermarket basil because its grown hyrdoponically in fish poo and, to me, it has a recognizable and nasty undertaste of fish, but this was grown in dirt and has benefitted tremendously from repotting and sitting in the scorching heat.
Anyway, the dear husband was kind enough to bring me mozzarella di buffala from Milan and we've been gobbling it with every meal topped with my basil and tossed with olive oil.
Pretending we are in Sicily is psychologically helpful to the daily stresses of living in Dubai.
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