Sometimes in my head, I imagine a great thing that I'm sure I can do in the real world and it's definitely going to work out, no problem! And sometimes these imaginings do work out pretty well, and sometimes they are huge disasters. I did this last week. I had been turning around the idea of a preserved lemon cocktail in my head for a while and it sounded great. I was a bit worried about saltiness, but I figured I would soak the lemons and reduce the salt. Then I would turn them into a syrup that was sweet and just faintly salty and with that great, perfumed lemon-but-also-not-quite-lemon preserved lemon flavour. My dream cocktail was amazing. I would add basil and make an excellent, uniquely sweet and savoury, fragrant, sophisticated summer lemonade cocktail delight.

This was hubris my friends. I sliced the preserved lemon into thin wedges, rinsed and soaked it to reduce the salt, and made a simple syrup, totally certain of my true cocktail genius. And then I tasted the revoltingly salty (Duh, right?) yet somehow too sweet syrup. I added lemon juice and more sugar, to try to balance out or at least distract from the off-putting qualities of my concoction. I continued to throw good sugar after bad for quite a while, never really improving things. I wound up with a super thick, still gross, lemon sludge. I put it in the fridge, thinking I could find a way to save it. Then I stared at it every time I opened the fridge for 3 days until I had to face reality and throw it away.

I had already bought basil though, and I wasn't going to let this gross lemon-tastrophy ruin my basil cocktail dreams. For the next round, I went with a surefire flavour combo, with no daring acrobatics involved: basil, lime and gin. Sweet, tart, summery. All the childish, summer-time fun of limeade combined with all the fun of gin! For the grown-up kiddo in you.

For now I will keep my preserved lemons for rubbing on chickens and turning into salad dressings. Until another wave of hubris hits me and I turn them into some kind of horrifying meringue.

basil syrup:

1 cup water
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup basil leaves, chopped

Combine ingredients in a small saucepan and bring to a boil until sugar is dissolved.. Reduce heat, and simmer on low about 5 minutes.

basil and lime gimlet:

juice of one lime
1 ounce gin
1 ounce basil syrup
ice cubes
a couple sprigs basil leaves

Crush basil leaves in a cocktail shaker with a muddler or the end of a wooden spoon. Add all other ingredients and shake vigorously until the shaker frosts over and gets very cold. Strain into a glass and garnish with a stem of basil. Makes one, multiply ingredients by the number of gimlet drinkers.

It got magically hot here in Victoria in the last week. After months about complaining about cold and damp and having to wear all these sweaters, I was immediately complaining about the beautiful, sunny, lovely weather that I have been hoping for for weeks. It's too hot, I don't have the right clothes for this, I can't sleep. It was a sweltering 23° C yesterday and and I was whining. I did have the perfect meal to go with the wonderful weather though. Light and summery, you only need to turn on the stovetop for a few minutes to grill the cheese, or you can barbecue it if you are careful not to let it drop between the grill bars.

Haloumi is a strange and delightful cheese. If you haven't tried it before, it may sound a bit odd, but don't let that put you off. It's salty and very firm and mild flavoured. It has the magical property of not melting when heated, so you can grill or roast it and it holds its shape and develops a fantastic crispy-toasty exterior. It also squeaks in your teeth when you eat it, which sounds a little weird and rubbery but in a way that is so satisfying. It's hearty and sort of meaty almost and makes a meal out of a light salad.

If you can't find haloumi, feta cheese will work too. It can still be grilled or pan fried, but it's a little more melty than haloumi so it might spread a bit.

watermelon radish and haloumi salad:

2-3 watermelon radishes, scrubbed and sliced paper thin
3 big handfuls arugula
pea shoots or microgreens
a few sprigs parsey, chopped
1 package haloumi, sliced into thick blocks

In a lightly oiled grill pan fry the haloumi slices over medium heat until dark grill lines appear and flip. You can also use a regular flat pan, but you won't have the delightful grill lines.

Combine vegetables and lay haloumi slices on top.

basil dressing:

adapted from Rebar: Modern Food Cookbook