A slow-cooked, summery, tomato-and-pepper stew that’s just made to be served at room temperature with fat pork sausages Stored well, some seeds can last centuries, apparently. I am certain that sitting for four years upright in a box with postcards, bank statements and business cards, and under a lamp, isn’t good storage. But, like the business cards I may need one day, I can’t throw away the basil, courgette, thyme and red pepper seeds, or get around to planting them. So they sit, waiting, their corners getting knocked into dog ears. They don’t go unnoticed; the packet that catches my eye most is peperone rosso di Cuneo , which has on it a photograph of a pepper so red, it seems to have black stripes; it’s also square, like a weightlifter’s jaw. The packet promises seeds of a vigorous, gourmet variety producing large fruits with firm, exceptionally thick flesh and an intense, sweet flavour. Every time I read this, I want to eat peppers, to crunch on raw strips. Also to go for a swim,