In which I compare spam commenters to Joyce, Nigella Lawson to Hamlet, and assert that Graham The Nasty Commenter eats flies. And in which I make vast quantities of pasta.
“The most enormous and beautiful pie in the world. It was covered all over, top, sides, and bottom, with rich golden pastry. I took a knife from beside the sink and cut out a wedge. I started to eat it in my fingers, standing up. It was a cold meat pie. The meat was pink and tender with no fat or gristle in it, and there were hard-boiled eggs buried like treasures in several different places. The taste was absolutely fabulous. When I had finished the first slide I cut another and ate that, too.”
Holidays are good for people. This is my first one since approximately 2011, and I am astonished at how happy I am. I am on holiday, and walking to pubs […]
It’s cold outside, and the evenings are drawing dark hard on the heels of four o’clock, and inside there are blankets, and fat warm candles, and a big bit of pig, and heart attack mash.