Elizabeth David, via a book! long ago gave me the recipe for my fasting dinner to-night. I was going to have salmon, but, having to dine alone, I fixed on a simpler supper (and had had sardines in a bread roll for a late lunch in any case).
So, dinner was pasta all'aglio e olio: boil some pasta (David suggested spaghetti, I used penne, all I had to hand this evening), and meanwhile dice up lots of garlic to be heated up in good olive oil; once all is ready, mix it all together and serve. I added a sprinkle of salt.
Earlier, I gave blood to-day, the first time since last year (I donate on and off), and I commend doing so to all.
It is interesting, though, to note the strict rules the Red Cross still applies: no one who's spent six months or more in the U.K. during the Mad Cow epidemic, no one who's had a tattoo in the past year, no one who's been in prison, no one's who's used drugs even once, no one who's visited a harlot, no one who's committed unnatural acts may donate blood.
Isn't it remarkable, when the voices of morality are cowed by those of vice, that even now, in this dark age, the Red Cross's standards of hygiene still remind us that certain grave sins, not only disordered and degrading, are also notorious ways to catch foul diseases?