Toasted sourdough, a smear of something creamy or punchy, a tin of sardines cracked open with quiet defiance. It’s salty, bold, and emotionally complex — like you after bedtime.
Swap sardines for smoked trout or mackerel if you must — but sardines have a beautiful, unapologetic character that suits late August melancholy. Also delicious with a glass of cold white wine and zero plans.