The Dashing Blade

Today I learned a valuable lesson. Having been a little out of sorts for a day or two - general January malaise, some odd career-y hiccups, maybe a lack of really good pork-based products - I was throwing together a simple pasta sauce and decided to test the sharpness of my new shiny cook's knife. By attempting to remove the tip of my left thumb. The words "doh" and, er, "doh" sprang to mind.

Anyway, after a few minutes in A&E - thank you for the stenostrips Elliot, you were a thumb-repairing legend - it's sort of back to normal, albeit with a bandage so big I can't play XBOX for a few days. That should help the sleep patterns a little anyway, and snap me out of the Geometry Wars addiction. And that, in turn, might help me snap out of the sort of mood that means I shouldn't pick up sharp knives...

Foodwise, it's been a bleurgh day as well. The highlight, as it so often is, was a piece of Mrs Lambshank's homemade bread, slathered in Skippy (that's the crunchy peanut butter not a slab of 'roo rillette) and a cuppa to get the day started. Otherwise, it's been very dull, so I'm deeply envious of William & Simon's Korean lunch at Bi-Won (covered in classic Dos Hermanos style here) and even more sorry that I had to forego an Anchor & Hope lunch to make some freelance money at midday. Still, tomorrow may well feature a spot of East Finchley Thai (depending on transcripts and reviews and stuff) but will definitely finish with a marvellous sesh around my favourite bit of London. The only thing that could put a damper on proceedings is whether I need a tetanus booster or not...

Still, it's not all bad news. The proposed Scottish trip - a pilgrimage to Old Pulteney, the northernmost distillery in Scotland via as many foodie hotspots as my belt will allow - is one for early March. And the legends at the BMW press department have kicked in with a 730d SE to make the journey in. Gawd bless 'em and their German efficiency.


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