I enjoyed this with a glass of red and the newspaper, and everything was positively great. Until it wasn't. I hadn't been asleep more than an hour when I awoke with a start and hurtled to the bathroom. Nausea had enveloped me like a sunburn that comes on fast. I think it may have been the anchovies because my tin had the slightest rise in the top. You know, that dreaded aluminum can puff that signifies something is decidedly off. It was so slight though and though a daub of oil spurted onto my pants (not usual!) when I popped the tab back, there was no smell of warning, no discoloration or funk inside.
I've (re-)learned my lesson and sadly do not feel I can even fathom making this recipe again. Too much baggage as boy do I feel like crap now. Thank god T is finally coming home tonight.
It's a beautiful day out so I'm going to attempt a walk with Percy and then return to my couch and blanket.