If you take the Antique Collectors’ Club magazine, then any day now you’ll receive the March issue. The Sage is on the cover. Or rather, the star item for his next sale is. I’ll give you a link to the ACC (here) but that issue isn’t up yet.
The Sage hasn’t been his most tactful self tonight. I said, after a light first course, that I was off to cook pancakes – when he didn’t follow me a few minutes later, I went back and discovered him on the phone. “Oh,” I said, “I didn’t know you were going to make phone calls.” I went and cooked more pancakes. It was quite some time before I went back to tell him he had half a dozen pancakes on a plate, piled up and going soggy.
Hmm. Yes, he was very apologetic. Yes, I received a kiss (he isn’t the kissiest of men, but puddings win through every time) but I was still tossing pancakes, so a cheek was proffered in receipt. No, we haven’t disagreed. It’s no problem to me, I cooked the pancakes, he ate them, except the final two when he said he couldn’t manage more. I ate those.
I’m a lemon juice and sugar purist for pancakes. Shrove Tuesday (or, in this case, Ash Wednesday) pancakes, that is. I can take or leave Crêpes Suzette and similar gussying-up of the perfect sweet recipe. I do like savoury pancakes once in a while. And when there are a few of us here, I provide sugar, syrup, honey, oranges and lemons and so on – but it’s still variations on a classic theme. And I stick to lemon and sugar.
Wink, having emailed the Easter bride-to-be, has received an enthusiastic reply. So we’ll be booking our flights for Chennai tomorrow. Nandini warns us it’s going to be jolly hot. Do you know, I’m right in the mood for jolly hot. I love heat, can’t take too much sun. So it’ll be the non-sunny side of the street for me. And a knotted hankie on my head.