As I came home from college today, with the freezing wind stripping layers of skin off my cheeks, I stopped in the veg shop just before Newington Green and all was well with the world. It’s a fabulous shop – full of all manner vegetables, all colours and textures, beautifully arranged in a rainbow cascade of inspiration. It’s the kind of shop that makes you wish you knew how to do more exciting things with vegetables and make your head buzz with the endless possibilities: Moroccan vegetables tagines, Indian spiced curries, soups, side dishes and salads a riot of colour. Today, when I got home, I was tired and desperate for food, quickly, with minimum effort and maximum taste. Lengthy and loving preparation was not the order of the day. Happily, when I opened the fridge I found I had surprise halloumi, which answered all my prayers. I cut a few slices, threw it in a hope, dry pan with a few cherry tomatoes and fried it until it was brown and smelling as saltily delicious as I knew it would taste. Meanwhile, washed rocket, half a chopped yellow pepper, olive oil, pepper and balsamic vinegar got chucked in a bowl, the hot cheese and tomatoes followed and voila, one happy Amy. Even if my cheeks were still burning from the hot/cold horror combo.