pumpkinstrokemarrow

After something of a gap, back to the fore rib. Ten pounds or so, cooked for 3.5 hours at 180C. Maybe 15 minutes too long. Perfectly fine and moist, but no hint of pink. I like a hint if not a flush. Six of us did more or less the whole lot in one sitting. Accompanied by the finest offering in the wine department from an East London Aldis. That is to say, several bottles of something called St Emilion Grand Cru from the Chateau Grand-Pey-Lescours at £7.50 a pop or so. Not bad stuff at all, although a bit lost among the other offerings. The thing is, why were they knocking it out so cheap?

Yesterday to the Estrella in Vauxhall, where we had some truly excellent chicken soup. Flavoured with some herb or spice which I could not put a name to without a hint of the monosodium which pervades packet chicken soup. Followed by some truly excellent, albeit a little salty, bean and pork stew. Maybe two or three pints of the stuff between two, served in our own personal saucepan. A good blow-out - and just the right stuff to be eating outside on a wet and windy summer evening. Just like Portugal apparently. But that is the price one has to pay for one's nicco fix these days. Bring on Rumanian rules!

On the way home, some good skyscapes as the rain came and went. And the best rainbow I have seen for ages. Around Merton Mills one was getting a full bright horseshoe and BH claimed there was an outer one although I couldn't see it. Odd that she was driving and I was not.