The Game's Up

I got the results yesterday and went to the Doctor's surgery this morning. "Well Mr Combo" said the Doctor, scanning the four pages, "what you have to do is diet. For three months. No cheese, no eggs, no fried food, no pork-based products, no duck, no goose, nothing high in fat. Your cholesterol is too high. Not high enough for medication but still too high." He then looked up from the analysis and fixed me through his half-moon spectacles, "and your liver is in crisis. I will allow you half a glass of wine at mealtimes and no more." "Does that include breakfast?" I asked brightly. "I don't really need to answer that do I Mr Combo?" "No doctor, just a little joke, ha ha, you know my way of coping with, er, bad, y'know, news." "Come back and see me at the end of January and we'll do some more tests. However the rest of you would appear to be OK. Your prostate is fine. So it's not all doom and gloom is it?"

Yes it sodding well is actually Doctor. Anyway, dear readers, what should I do? Buckle down and do what the dear doctor recommends or flick two fingers at the health fascists and carry on? I am inclined to cave in (starting tomorrow of course, November 1st, I have a dinner tonight for God's sake) and follow orders. I have always been obedient in the face of authority, that's St. bloody Custard's for you. What do you lot think I should do?

Food Glorious Food!

On Sunday I went to the Salone del Gusto at Turin, a huge exhibition devoted to the very best worldwide in food and run by the admirable Slow Food organisation. Its was absolutely mobbed but great fun with all sorts of free tastings and opportunities to get stuck in for nowt. Dominated by Italians of course but there was also a lot of representation from Africa and China. You'd need at least two days to do the lot. Can you believe that I did NOT visit either the beer hall or the wine tasting centre? I think I may be going certifiably mad.
This, remarkably, is the scene by the British Pig Association stand where they were flogging bacon and sausage sandwishes at €3 a pop. It was bonkers and heaving. Couldn't get near.
The event itself was held in the old Fiat factory at Lingotto. This is a view from the inside looking up. On the top of the building is a fully-banked test driving circuit, but most of you lot probably knew that anyway.
In the evening and back at home I had to go out for dinner and worked my way through five courses and a shedload of decent Cab Franc, Raboso and Barbera. On Monday morning I bit the bullet and went for a comprehensive blood test at the local hospital. That should have caused an interesting reaction ("Mamma mia! Come here and have a look at this sod!") in the analysis lab the next day. I get the results tomorrow. Well, it's been fun, what I can remember.