Small joy
one of the upsides of this job is that, late at night, when the last customers have left grumbling about taxis, and all the staff have gone home, I have a catering standard kitchen to play with, so tomight I fried off some duck with chilli and ginger, whilst using the combi to hard-bake some noodles with stock and chorizo, to be eaten at the bar whilst reading a book of John Ashbery’s poems, drinking a damn fine medoc and reflecting that , you know, it’s not such a bad old life.