What happened was that I fled London in my choc-mobile. I wanted to get out there and see what the rest of Britain had to offer and how well we’re all eating and drinking. Of course I never travel without a touch of shez and the fridge in the back of the van has been utilised most efficiently along the way: a spot of PX for my Venezuelan truffles, some palo cortado to have with snacks under the sinking evening light, an oloroso with my Craster kippers….always once the van is parked up for the night, mind.
So the on the road reverie has rendered me a little blog-shy. But I must get over this minor hurdle because there’s work to do! I need to continue spreading the good word of shez and there’s plenty to holler about. I was up in Aviemore the other week, for example, and was blown away by the smooth way that my roast pheasant went with the pale cream that was perched proudly on the table. It’s a new one on me – I would ordinarily have favoured more of a nutty aroma to pair with this game old bird – but its sweetness rallied my senses in an altogether more refreshing way.
And then there was the art teacher I met in Durham who told me of his college days penchant for sherry and lemonade. He was keen on all sorts of styles for this strange sounding concoction, but did confess to leaning towards the drier sherries to combat the sweetness.
I will check in shortly with more news from the frontline of sherry experimentation – it’s a jungle out here and I’m loving the adventure!
