HOW'Z IT HANGIN'

Sometimes, when I really can't get out of it, I have to come here. It's as grim inside as it is out. Though not if you're into fabric. Because if fabric floats your boat then this is El Dorado. Afterwards I headed off to somewhere with an equally grim exterior but a far more inviting stock. 

I've been trying to play Credit Crunch recently. A game of scrimping and saving. Hopefully we'll be too absorbed playing it to notice that our houses are now as worthless as our currency and our jobs are about as secure as, err, well our jobs.

My first purchase is well within the rules.

What I used to call winkles but the fishmonger here calls whelks. £4.99 kg. I'll be boiling these in very salty water for 5 minutes and eating them with a pin..... no shortage of them today.

The next purchase disqualifies me immediately. It's a rubbish game anyway.

But who could resist a wild sea bass for £13.49 kg? The fishmonger scaled and gutted it. My plan is to bake it with a few slices of ginger, a little mirin, grassy olive oil and some fresh herbs. A few years ago I planted up some old sinks with various herbs and then forgot all about them. Amazingly they're still there, so perhaps a few more points back on the Credit Crunch board. Fennel, chives and.....

Lemon sorrel. This stuff really tastes good. Can't decide whether to put it in with the fish to bake or chop it up with butter to serve? Probably not the sort of dilemma you're suppose to have in a global recession. The wine....

another present from Niven and Sabeen who just came back from Paris. They're not very good at Credit Crunch either.

A Farewell To Wines

Have you noticed that the older you get the less people "drop by" unannounced? It used to happen to me all the time, all my friends did it to each other. Nowadays texts, emails and diary checks are needed just to drop off a book.

There is, however, one glorious exception. Occasionally friends still do drop in unannounced. Or, more cunningly, suggest going for a pint at the pub next door...... thirty minutes before closing time. Somehow, and I don't know how, these impromptu visits always happen just after I've taken delivery of a case of wine. Are they getting tip offs from the delivery man? I'm not complaining, it's good fun, I just wish someone would drop a few tip offs my way too!

Despite last month's gripe (Wine Society Price Hike) I decided that tough times were no times for grudges. So, to do my bit for the recession effort, I bought a case of the Society's own label reds. Isn't it funny, spending money we didn't have got us into this mess in the first place, and now we're told, the only way to get out of it is to spend all the money we do have? 

Anyway, it seems like only yesterday it turned up, pristine and packed to the gunnels with shiny new bottles all clamoring to be first out of their little trenches. Oh, you should have seen them! Eager beavers from across the globe- Chilean Merlot, Chianti Ruffini, Claret, Beaujolais Villages and a Spicy Australian. This is, after all, a world recession.

Alas, there is no mercy on the front line, doodlebug like, the buzzer kept sounding. Too soon they were gone, cut down in their prime, they shall never grow old.

All served with honour, but medals for the Chianti and the Australian. A mention in dispatches for the Beaujolias.