Nothing last week I’m afraid. A bit of a domestic, doctor called. (Not for me some will be sorry to hear) Always on a bloody Sunday isn’t it? Still managed to cook a wild pigeon (You’d be wild too, if you were stuck into a hot oven and basted with your own juices) and four of five veg. This week it’s a simple pousin (My spell check doesn’t recognise the word, so I might well have spelled it wrong. Baby chicken I mean) poached in white wine with swede, carrot and onion, plus mashed potato and sprouts (frozen. But Marco Pierre White said they’re best). Read More
Record shops I know and love
Last time I said I couldn’t find a crime novel that interested me. Since then I’ve found four and read two. The two I’ve read are The Whisperers by John Connolly
