My local supermarket sells lots of herbs in pots. And as I still have a tiny little space on my windowsill which I feel obliged to fill (those who know me are laughing now) and since it is summer and I live in a house now and my window is oriented into the garden, having a little herb pot garden to pick from while cooking just sounds too romantic to resist. However, I have given myself the condition that I can only buy one now, so chive was the choice. Sitting at the bus station, I kept reading my book and petting the plant as if it was a cat, enjoying the familiar smell that we knew so well when we picked chive before breakfast at our grandparents' cottage. And with some cheese on bread, it made great simple and fresh meal here too. Yum-yum.