They should smear this over re-entry vehicles

So I'm doing the weekly online shopping list, although I am not allowed to actually put the order in until the missus comes home and checks it through, removing the Highland Park six-pack

Good

and the one kilo jar of luxury jumbo honey-roasted cashews

Bad (in a good way)

and replacing them with worthless items such as washing powder and shower shine spray.

Ugly

when what do I come across in the cupboard, but this

I am so embarrassed. I honestly don't know what I am doing here. I should be in the bin.

Who put this back in the cupboard? It wasn't me. Ergo, it was SWMBO, the lazy minx. I know her game. Because of the draconian recycling regime which the local council impose to keep the proletariat firmly under their apparachik bootheels, all glass has to be washed clean before recycling; the penalty being internal exile to Middlesborough.

So I'm thinking: a clean and recycled peanut butter jar has GOT to be worth

or even


I fill it with hot soapy water


After five minutes of vigorous cleaning with a j-cloth it looks like this

WTF???

So I use a scrubbing brush


then wire wool


then a combination of all three, plus boiling water, and finally, desparately one of these


and now the jar looks like this

Aha! I think we're getting somewhere

I repeat, WTF?? I mean, what the hell is IN this stuff? And what's it doing to my insides? I can only conclude that my stomach and intestines must be coated with years of intractable peanut butter ingestion.

I hurl the jar in the bin.

Middlesborough isn't that bad, is it?


Welcome to Middlesborough

Cornish Geezers

Went to a local cafe/restaurant/clubbish type place for an evening of vegetarian food and Cornish folk singing.


Here they are


To their credit, they did not pretend to be anything else other than a pub-choir, and they weren't half bad, but this was only in comparison to the food, which I did not eat. The smell and look were enough to put off any carbon-based life form.

I did however, manage to get down a pint of cider, and two pints of Stella, which is two pints more than I can usually drink (I have an elf's capacity for booze)


Just a Babycham shandy for me please

My party then made our excuses and left, searching for something edible, which we found in a hostelry not far from home

...table by the band please...

Had a very acceptable supper.

Next morning woke up feeling unaccountably awful, until it dawned on me that, for the first time since a teenager, I had had three pints and a doner the night before.

I've Just Seen That!

Andrew Marr: Now then Prime Minister. Do you have an opinion on everything?

Prime Minister: Yes of course I do. I'm a politician

Ooooh no, I wouldn't do it like that...

Andrew Marr: and what is your opinion of politicians?

Prime Minister: All politicians should be ground up and used for dogfood

Andrew Marr; Thank you Prime Minister. And now, over to the newsroom for the news headlines

Newsreader: In an interview broadcast one nanosecond ago, The Prime Minister said that all politicians should be ground up and used for dogfood

I KNOW.

I'VE JUST WATCHED HIM.

Why do they do that?

Yak & Yeti

Had often looked through the window of this Stroud Green Road restaurant in passing, and although I didn’t like the look of the rather over the top palatial chairs in the front

thought we’d one day give it a go. So last night me and the missus went in.

About 85% full, nice buzz about the place, and most of the décor was modern with very comfy leather chairs, apart from a few tables at the front. 

That's better

We were seated at one of the last remaining tables in the back, by a friendly and efficient waiter.

We ordered drinks and papadums: two plain two masala. Drinks and two plain papadums duly arrived, and after a few minutes the Maitre D’ came over to check on us. We’re ready to order, I say, but we are missing two masala pappadums. “Let me go and remedy that sir”, and off he goes.

As we are sitting near the back of the restaurant, I could hear sounds from the kitchen, and suddenly I hear raised voices, and the words MASALA PAPADUMS!! being angrily hurled out.

30 seconds later out glides the Maitre D’ with two masala papadums. Job done. He takes our order. We have ordered two starters: spiced crabcakes, and Peri Peri Prawns.

In due course the crabcakes arrive, but no sign of the prawns. My wife and I share the very good crabcakes which come with a great tangy sauce and a delicious side salad with a dressing that would not be out of place in a fancy french restaurant. We finish our crabcakes. Still no prawns. Again the Maitre D’ sidles over. “Is everything to your satisfaction?”

“Lovely, but we do not seem to have our peri peri prawns.” He takes a deep breath and plunges back into the kitchen, whereupon we hear angry shouting, and  a couple of whimpers. Out he glides again and says, “I am so sorry Sir, it will be just a few minutes.” As we seem to have ordered quite a lot we say don’t worry, we’ll go straight to the mains.

We then spend an entertaining 15 minutes watching the Maitre D’ as he firefights his way across the restaurant, barking at waiters and disappearing into the kitchen. I think they are just a little busier than they can cope with, but I have a beer, we’re sitting on a warm, comfy seat in very pleasant surroundings on a Friday evening, so we’re perfectly happy.

Our mains arrive after a little wait, with apologies from the waiter for the delay.  All the food arrives except the rice, so we are waiting for that to arrive before we tuck in. The Maitre D’, sniffing a possible problem, shimmies over. “Do you have everything Sir?”

“Umm yes thank you. Just waiting for the rice?”

A shadow passed across his face, and he takes a large Basil Fawlty-type breath before plunging into the kitchen. I look at my wife and we both cringe. Sure enough, we hear a hurricane of screams, swearing, and general mayhem. I can make out the words RICE and possibly BASTARDS.

30 seconds later out glides the Maitre D’ with our rice.

I had the Lamb Xacuti, which was superb, with flavours of coconut and curry leaves. The lamb was meltingly tender, and the sauce rich and full of delicious flavours. My wife had Lamb Achari, which had zingy, astringent flavours – also superb. We had two vegetable accompaniments. One was a finely minced aubergine dish redolent of a spicy babaganoush – very good. But I thought the best dish was the spinach bhagi. Made with baby spinach leaves that had just been wilted, the little stalks were still slightly crunchy – without doubt the very best spinach bhagi I have ever tasted, and I’ve had a few in my time I can tell you.

Then hot towels, little choccies and coffee. What a great meal and a great place. £30 per head, but well worth it for the food, the service and the entertainment.

Top place. Will definitely return with friends, and will insist on a table by the kitchen.

London Anniversary Tour

WARNING:
Interminably long, self-indulgent and really quite dull, humourless post charting a walk through London as I tried to master taking pictures.

Seriously, I really wouldn't bother if I were you.

For our anniversary, me and the missus thought we'd have a romantic day out in London.

It started out with an exciting visit to the bathroom shop

Can we get a seat by the urinal?

Swiftly followed by a visit to Pentonville Prison.

It's a great spot for a picnic

She is training to be a London Tour Guide and so we went on one of the tours she is learning: a tour of Barnsbury starting at the prison, on Caledonian Road.

From there we walked through Barnsbury, which has the beautiful Thornhill Square


Here are a couple of houses just round the corner from the Square that I would be happy to have




We then went past a tiny and very old nature reserve. The only fragment of woodland left in Islington.


Then to Cloudesley Square with this massive church in the middle


Few other places in between, but finally ended the tour at this lovely community garden, just near Upper Street in Islington


After a light lunch at Itsu, we carried on through Islington towards Clerkenwell, via The Angel, of Monopoly fame


We passed this place, which apparently, is the most achingly trendy café in London


and also this place (note the queue) which is THE place to get breakfast. God knows why.


Now well into Clerkenwell, and here is St John’s Gate. The medieval home of knights of the order of St John, and also where St John’s Ambulance charity started


Just past St John’s Arch is this alley, formely known as “Pissing Alley” where the Victorian drunks used to…piss


Making our way down to St Pauls, we pass London’s famous Smithfield Meat Market


Here’s another view, with the hideous massive 70’s Barbican structure towering in the background


Then just past Smithfield is the church of St Barts (bit overexposed - sorry) where the last wedding in Four Weddings and a Funeral was shot


Here is the original HQ of the post office. They knew how to spend public money in those days (I did warn you this was dull. Hello? Anybody there?)


And Bow Church, housing the famous Bow Bells

which as we all know, you have to be born within the sound of, to be a real cockney. Apparently, because of all the surrounding modern buildings and increased traffic noise, hardly any cockneys are born nowadays!

Here is the end of Watling Street, the famous Roman Road that starts at (?) Hadrians Wall and ends in Londinium


Finally we arrived at St Paul's Cathedral. Glimpses of St Paul's from Peternoster Square




Now this is most interesting. Here is St Nicholas Cole Abbey Centre, with a delightful cafe, famous for being where my missus got stuck in the toilet


We crossed the road from St Paul's, and here is the Wobbly Bridge, with the Tate Modern in the distance, over the river

This walkway always smells of hot caramel, as there are always two or three vendors selling hot caramelised nuts.

Here we are on the bridge, with a great view of The Shard


And now we are in the Tate Turbine Hall

Some huge monstrosity. I believe it is a deliberate ambiguity in a mechanised ethos.

And here is a view from the Tate back across the Wobbly Bridge


and views of The City


Then on to the West End where we saw “Love is Strange” with John Lithgow and Alfred Molina (not very good).

Quick cocktail here


and back to Islington for supper at The Mercury, which is a fantastic, cheap but very good French Brasserie


Finally finally, on to a local Jazz pub


…and so to bed.

Oliver Bonas

Try as I might, I cannot get my head round what this shop sells. I was walking up Muswell Hill High Street, and whilst waiting for the missus to finish looking in the Cancer Research Charity Shop, I wandered into Oliver Bonas

I looked at the shelves and tried to form a theme. Nothing came to mind.

I looked again, closed my eyes, and tried to remember what I had seen one second ago. Nothing came to mind.

It was like that game when you are given 15 seconds to look at a tray full of objects, then the tray is removed and you have to recall as many objects as you can.

Looking at the merchanise in Oliver Bonas is like looking at a tray full of brown lumps of nothingness. It is SO dull and meaningless, you don't know what's going on.

As I was staring disconsolately at the shelves, the missus walks in, looks at something on a shelf, and says "Oooh that's nice"

"What's nice?" I say.

"That picture frame, next to the anniversary cards."

"Would you come into this shop to buy a picture frame?"

"No, I would come into this shop to buy a gift. Oh look at that teapot. It would go perfectly with the chair over there next to the notebooks"

"So what kind of shop sells teapots, chairs, cards, notebooks and picture frames? It makes absolutely no sense" I say.


Oh that's MUCH more useful

"What do you mean, what does it sell? It's obvious.  Just look around you."


Er...

I look around me. I cannot for the life of me figure out what they sell. I take in shelf after shelf of stuff, and concentrate as hard as possible to remember the contents of the shelves. I close my eyes, and cannot think of a thing.


I THINK this was just next to the silk scarves, or was it by the monogrammed mugs?

"But why would you come in here?" I say to her. "I mean, if you want to buy someone a gift, surely you get an idea of what they want, and then go to the appropriate shop to buy it, don't you?

"That's fine if you know what you want to buy, but if you don't, you come here for inspiration. Oh, that's a nice pillow."

I lose my temper. "When in God's name would it be appropriate to buy anyone a pillow? If someone bought me a pillow, I'd fling it back in their face for wasting my time opening it. This place panders to lazy, unimaginative people who can't think for themselves."

"Well," says the missus, with her arms folded tightly across her chest, "if you're going to be like that, you can say goodbye to the chair swing I was going to get you for your birthday."


I hope she was joking.

She was, wasn't she?