In the dog house
Yep, I got myself in trouble last night. I was not a popular bunny. Oh no. My goose was well and truly cooked. My crime? Well, I roasted a chicken. I thought my other half may appreciate a nice bit of roast chicken seeing as we have often bought pollo arrosto from shops in the past and I, mistakenly, believed that pollo arrosto was roast chicken. It tasted like it, but the only acceptable way to roast (I think ‘roast’ is the correct expression…) a chicken is to cook it on a spit in a suitably equipped oven, I discovered. The roast chicken odour which permeated our flat did not go down at all well, especially when I decided to boil the carcass in order to make some yummy chicken stock.
I can see it now. Divorce courts:
Judge: Next case!.
Clerk: Mrs M v Mr R. M’lud.
Judge: What are the grounds for this divorce?
Clerk: Roast chicken.
Judge, after falling about in fits of laughter: Roast chicken! Tell the parties to get stuffed. Next case!
Oh, and the chicken tasted great! However, for the sake of maintaining domestic harmony I shall refrain from roasting anything in the future, for fear of getting a roasting.
Winter, maybe
In Genova, where I was at the weekend, the temperature was around 16°C. Not bad for the bleak mid-winter. Even in Milan we had around 10°C, which is unseasonably warm for the time of year.
Today in Milan, on the other hand, it is about 5°C and grey. It almost feels cold enough to be winter.
The other day I was out with some friends, a rare offspring free evening, and the subject of ever warmer climates came up. One of my friends suggested that buying up properties in Scotland may not be such a bad idea, as within 50 years or so, Scotland may be considered the new Mediterranean. What a thought! Italy will quite possibly become as hot as the Sahara, he seemed to think. In which case the only skiing anyone will be doing in Europe will be on water.
Yes, I’m going through an environmentally conscious phase at the moment, as you may have noticed….
























