Here's a strange, new sensation: I've just been listening
to one of my nephews playing his cello. But he was hundreds of miles away in Newcastle
upon Tyne and I was driving through foot-and-mouth forsaken Dukinfield.
he was on the radio and the strangeness of it all almost caused me to run into
the back of the next bus.
I don't get to know much about
any of my nephews - and there are great nephews, too - until they grow up a bit
and start doing interesting things.
This one is to play
in Majorca next, followed by the Royal Albert Hall where he is to perform a ten-minute
solo whilst wearing an outfit that resembles what would be left of a penguin if
you took its insides out.
The delight is that I can enjoy
all of this - particularly boasting about it - without having had to endure what
must have been years of torment for his parents and no doubt his parents' neighbours.
suppose it is the joy of Unclehood to have nephews without nuisance. A bit like
going to a restaurant and having something sumptuous to eat without having to
do the shopping or the washing up.
I've been thinking about
restaurants and in particular about a fish one in San Antonio.
took me there and I later took two retired Blackpool landladies whose apartment
I was renting when I was over with She Who Went Bananas.
got an X in its name and it's somewhere near the Post Office.
me, but I must go on about The Fish Baked In Salt.
happens is this
you say to the waiter: "Could we have a fish baked
in salt please?" and he looks pleased.
look smug because you know the diners at the adjoining tables are ordering ordinary
things and will be very envious when your fish comes in.
waiter arrives a few bottles later bearing aloft this wooden (I think) board with
your fish held aloft and you are the star for having ordered it.
The Fish has been dredged in Ibiza's legendary sea salt (about two pounds of it)
and then baked. It forms a crust under which your fish (by now it's definitely
yours) has taken in all the good things like iodine and is positively glowing.
course, by the time the crust has been bashed apart and the skin and bones removed,
there's just the white stuff, opalescent and gleaming and it's like chip shop
cod without the batter.
But it flakes and it glows.
could imagine a cello droning in the background.