Wednesday, December 22, 2004

Martian did not disappoint with his dinner party contingent - a very eclectic mix that came together well once marinaded in oodles of wine and beer; amongst the ingredients was a little dash of sour young lemon which lent a piquancy but was removed early enough so as not to sour the mixture, some very mature salt, a little Sally sweetness and Prince Edward majesty, prime Yorkshire Beef, some southern frothiness, a few sleeping ingredients to add body, and a rather unctuous dark substance that quietly hinted at hidden depth. I suspect my contribution was the oil that bound it all together - I certainly displayed sufficient fat vessels to keep the lamp lit.

Softly's profiteroles were historic ( I'm a Winner reader, you guessed) - I usually shun pudding but no-one could have resisted those - they'd be on my list for a Last Supper request.

We did get a bit loud and lairy for a Monday school night - but it is Christmas week - and I had the ultimate excuse for not arriving at work on time - I was playing Santa again to far-flung estate agents to cover the fact that I was actually playing spoons with the unctuous dark substance who just seemed to invite you in and then envelop you in warm delightful sensations.

I've now got Eva's birthday lunch at Blingington Fields to look forward to tomorrow - I've almost depleted my reserves so this will be the last big push before poverty sets in.


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