pumpkinstrokemarrow

A lot of subsequently prominent politicians get walk on parts. Mitterand, for example, appears to have been a bit of an operator with some very dodgy friends and relations. Also a womaniser.

To shake the bad taste off, to Hyde Park to get a stupendously loss leading stollen from the Lidl promotional stand on the ice rink they are just presently sponsoring in Hyde Park. A kilo of stollen for £2, including 290g of sultanas and 120g of marzipan, this last being half chopped almonds. BH says that this is excellent value. The same sort of thing from, say, Sainsbury's, might cost a tenner or more. I shall have occasion to check a bit later.

But later that evening a rather scary senior moment. Having bought a piece of brisket, the plan was to do another overnight job in the oven on 90C. The only question being when to kick it off. Thought maybe 1945. Arrived in the kitchen at B-hour minus 5 to find the thing already in the oven and on the go. I could remember prepping the both the brisket and the oven but I could not remember putting the brisket in the oven, despite it being absolutely clear that it was in. BH denied brisket action. This, for some reason, was more bothering than my average senior moment. Situation somewhat retrieved the following morning when I remembered that stollen was also the name for a sort of underground bunker used by the Germans as jumping off points for their assault troops at Verdun in 1916. Presumably the connection lies in the shape of the things. Impressed on checking with my copy of Horne's book on the subject to find that the memory was not playing tricks. And it must be getting on for twenty years since I have read it. Or is the memory simply slowly panning back to infancy, now having got to about half way?

Back at Hyde Park worked out from the ice rink to inspect the various Christmas Fair offerings. A good selection of Christmas novelties from the various sheds. Some very elaborate sheds containing beer. A model of a dead tree which waved it arms and talked. Some very flashy rides, including a reasonable sized but portable big dipper and a rather splendid miniature version of the London Eye. We offset the saving on the stollen by spending 10 times as much with a lady, who might well have come from the German alpine countryside at some point, on sausage, cheese and bread. Spread our bets on lunch with some excellent cabbage noodles from some Hungarian ladies, some not so excellent Hungarian goulash from a student who sounded as if he came from the US, and some German style fried potatoes with onion and bacon from a young man from Newcastle. We agreed that he had the very best sort of German accent. Maybe I am just not very keen on Goulash? Too much paprika?

Rounded off the occasion with a chance visit to Christ's Church at Down Street. A rather impressive 100 year old church done in gothic revival, making clever use of a rather awkward site. Lots of stained glass in various traditions. Came with a fairly hefty vicarage next door. At least it had one at one point. Things might have moved on. Church of England but with an evangelical flavour. See http://www.christchurchmayfair.org/. It would have been interesting to stay for their candle lit carols that evening; sadly not convenient.

PS: just learned that the real Christmas fest might be in France; neither in London nor Germany. See http://www.fetedeslumieres.lyon.fr/.