A brief visit to Albion to help fund Steve Jobs's retirement. I stayed in the Leicestershire countryside with the august Mr Ashley. There was significant consumption of some excellent ale and cider. Steaming Billy at the Bewicke Arms would probably come top of the list, principally because it is the only one I can remember. The visit concluded with an overnight stay in Essex where I took the Boozer's Communion as evidenced by the white tablecloth and pints of lager. For the record Chicken Jalfrezi, boiled rice and Tarka Dal which presumably has some otter in it. Ashley had King Prawn something. Excellent meal. Bizarrely, the pub/hotel in Braintree where we had our English aperitif (two pints of Greene King Abbot, no nibbles) before the Indian had their Christmas tree up and illuminated. We are all going to hell in a handcart.
7 comments:
It's funny how so much slips out of Ron Combo's memory chip. The Baillie Nichol Jarvie scotch I had to bring him whilst he surfed the intraweb at two in the morning and a second one I found sitting on top of my woodburner just now. Not to mention the petrol-based Varnelli dished-up by my daughter yet again. And we were told by a visibly shaken hotel under manager that the Braintree Christmas Tree had been up since September 5th.
Never shake an undermanager in Braintree, you never know what might fall off.
Maybe all that accounts for the terrible accident that befell your innocent electric kettle. The smell of burning plastic lingers on.
Sorry. I mean, Peter's kettle. You just though tit was yours, which explains the mistake....
Funny how we're talking about Ron Combo destroying my kettle on his blog, but anyway it's been replaced by a glistening Morphy Richards from Homebase. Perhaps it's time for Ron to fess-up and tell everybody how unwise it is to let him into a kitchen after a night on six different ciders.
Was it really a kettle that melted, or a magnificent baroque cathedral in the heart of Alencon? We should be told.
Okay. I'll come clean. Kettle, Cathedral. very similar in a Calvados stupour. It's a mistake anyone can make.
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