SO WHAT is a cuddly late-30s man-about-town like myself to do? If you guessed “sit in my underwear and play Call of Duty 2 for hours on end” then consider yourself a winner!
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I’ve heard of kitchen tables, and seen one on Ramsay’s Ego Nightmares, but never actually sat at one. So we jumped at the chance. We were opposite the main kitchen where the hot dishes were prepared; to the left was the pizza kitchen (yay!) and to the right the salad prep area (boo!). It was a lot hotter and noisier than I thought it would be but getting to see the chefs in action was a real treat. The other Anyway, to the food. I ordered the Supremo Italiano pizza, Ev got chicken prosciutto, Marty got the Quattro al Forno and Brenda chose the fettuccine supremo. And the chef threw us a plate of deep-fried mozzarella to start, bless him. It was superb, crisped to perfection on the outside and chewy in the middle. The marinara sauce was excellent and had hints of sage in it which made for a great starter. Then the bread, olive oil and balsamic vinegar turned up, and let’s face it – do I look like the kind of bloke who turns down bread, oil and balsamic vinegar? Nope. The bread was beautifully soft and doughy and the vinegar pin-sharp. Superb.
If the pizza wasn’t enough then Ev’s chicken prosciutto (below) was a sight that could give a healthy man a heart attack. Three chicken breasts stuffed with cream sauce and prosciutto ham, sitting on a bed of silky smooth pesto sauce. Ev made the mistake of offering me one and, like the bread and oil, free food isn’t something I turn down. And I’m glad I didn’t; everything about this dish was perfect.
1. Drop your trousers and underwear. 2. Bend over the table so you’re at a 90-degree angle. 3. Have your helper repeatedly ram you up the arse with the large unlubricated cucumber while simultaneously going through your wallet. See? Easy. SO THAT’S it? I spend hours reading Mark Billingham’s thriller In The Dark waiting for the “brilliantly clever and shocking twist” (The Times) and it turns out that the sister is a ghost? Piss off! Ev, I think I might be back to 599 books tomorrow… SAY what you want about the song (personally I like it) but there’ s no taking away from how incredible this Rube Goldberg-esque video is.
And number 600 means my second self-imposed book-buying ban has kicked in. Apart from our two weeks home, when I’ll be scouring the second-hand and charity shops in Ross and beyond, I can’t buy any books until July. While this might not be a problem for most people – after all I have an unread backlog of some 202 books – for me it’s like being denied air. Bookstores are my crackhouses. Yes, I have a problem. No, I don’t want treatment.
And then, one dark and terribleĀ night, Emric paid a visit. I think his tally in the past 12 months is three pairs of iPod earbuds, two pairs of headphones and two mice. I think there might be more but I’m too busy planning his demise to think of them. HERE’S a recipe for Welsh cakes. Welsh cakes truly are food of the Gods. Well, at least my nan’s were. Hot straight out of the oven, covered in butter and wolfed down with strong sweet tea. And that’s when I was 10. God knows how many I’d get through today. Millions, I suppose. I haven’t had Welsh cakes in ages. Maybe I’d better show Ev the recipe and drop some subtle hints along the lines of “make these or Emric gets it”. Anyway, the recipe is here. If you’re outside the UK the video will not play thanks to our dear, dear friend “international rights management” and the tossers who came up with it. |
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