Peasant or pheasant?

Tandoori noodles? When one was facing an impromptu and hastily decided 600 calories a day, one was understandably looking forward to supper and ready to devour it in much the way a rake of piranha who have not been fed for a week might. I have now discovered the way to reduce the piranhoic (ouch) urge to eat in the face if starvation. Add tandoori sauce to noodles. This could save the world from famine.

Don’t get me wrong, I love noodles and I love tandoori. I also like marmalade and fois gras, but would not think of eating them together, so it was a bit of a mystery as to why I was faced with such a combination.  A sensible person would not think to question that Nice Lady Decorator’s culinary skills in normal circumstances, but when one is contemplating taking a bite out of ones own arm, due to hunger, sense had clearly departed, and normality evaporated. I asked that question. She was very polite and her explanation was that she had wanted to finish up some bits and pieces lurking in the fridge. I am glad there were not kippers and peanut butter that were surplus to requirements.

On my morning constitutional along the River Arun, I decided to have a nosy around The Black Rabbit, which is undergoing a massive refurbishment, but could hardly get near due to the plethora of builders white vans outside. There was even a lorry and a team laying Tarmac over the newly widened drive. Apparently Hall and Woodhouse (obviously a quaint old gay couple that own it) are spending over half a million pounds on a complete facelift and I for one an anxious to see the results.

It was on the way back that I took this picture of a pheasant. It’s bright plumage a stark contrast to the grey banks of mud on yet another depressing grey day in England. Eat your heart out David Attenborough.

Yesterday, after my attack on modern art, I was called a peasant. Today I feature a pheasant, clever eh?

Yes, there is a continuing and familiar theme of eating running through this column but I don’t want you all to be down in the mouth about it. I shall get my teeth into a new subject eventually. I still have an appetite to write.

Ok, time to think of a new positive subject for a short while. How about the value of opening an account with Currencies Direct? Or have you all now opened your accounts? Ok back to food. It is my intention this weekend to eat back what I have been denied over three days of this week. As I speak there are no formal plans for this evening entertainment of which I have been informed, however I am determined to go out, but if it is to be an Indian restaurant, and there is a good one in Arundel,  I will not be ordering noodles.

Now let us turn to literally the most important event in the next fortnight. Two weeks today is the day when the foundations of English literature will be shaken, not stirred, by the publication of my second book The Valbonne Monologues. I shall be emailing reminders remorselessly over the coming weeks to ensure as many of my fans as possible attend to get their autographed copies at Cafe Latin on Friday 15th March. I have an extra sponsor to announce. Dancing Greg Harris from Côte d’Azur Villas has bowed to pressure and agreed to join those ever swelling ranks, already inhabited by ABK Properties, Marina Kulik, Currencies Direct and Blue Water Yachting. There will also be a Facebook invitation as soon as I can work out how to do it, or get someone to do it for me. The art of delegation is alive and well.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News