food
"One of the best meals of my life", said Dr B.
At fifty Euros each, I'm not bloody surprised. True, the same money would have bought us a soggy pizza and a carton of cooking wine in London. And there would have been a clause in small print on the menu stating that the meal needs to be consumed in under forty minutes because of the restaurant's high turnover. Took Dr B. to my favourite spot on the river after lunch, and took a few snapshots of sun-kissed snow-covered Alps in the distance. Went home to cook for six and get electrocuted by a faulty oven (sausages were therefore fried, not grilled). Four meals down, three more to go.