I met a labradoodle last week; his name was Fergus* and he is pretty marvellous. The BSG is a cat-person on the whole, but if push came to shove and he had to live with a canine companion he would be happy with a Labradoodle…or an Argentinian Doggo (but I think they’re illegal in this country as they’re so savage).
As the name suggests, the Labradoodle is a cross-breed of two beloved dog types - the reliable Labrador and the pom-pom-related poodle – which are rather at odds in terms of the dog spectrum. However, I suppose a St Bernard/Chihuahua would be a more extreme example, but you know what I mean. In the labradoodle, you have the best of each of each breed; you get a gentle, easily trainable pet with a coat that doesn’t cause allergies and is much sought-after. And the name is sweet but not too silly which is more than can be said of the Cockapoo…
But where are you going with this, I hear you ask. This blog was about food the last time I read a new post…which was about 100 years ago..?
Well, I was in the supermarket last Friday shopping for supper for one; the BSG was away. I was in M&S - since you ask - in my opinion the best supermarket to shop solo in as it makes you feel spoily rather than lonely… anyway, there I found my very own cross breed. I think this little hybrid was invented especially for brassica-loving moi (not kidding: my gran has long been shopping there so faithfully I reckon she owns it and must’ve had a word with the boss). I am sure I heard a choir singing a long ahhhhhh and as I slowly raised it from the shelf: the Flower Sprout had arrived in my life.
A lovechild of sprout and kale, the little dark green buds did indeed look flowery and as I slung them into my basket there was an extra spring in my step. I had them quickly sauteed with slightly browned anchovy butter and they were glorious.
* I’ll also admit to being a keen afficionado of the assigning of a proper name to a dog. Andrew is my current favourite.