Friday, June 12, 2015


I have had several bad pangs of missing my father this week. One came when I realized that the restaurant I hoped to have a quiet memorial dinner at with B. next weekend in Philadelphia (we are there for my stepfather's memorial) has since closed! Another came just now when I saw this lunch with the FT piece (interviewee is Richard Desmond), which included a refrain I know he would have hugely appreciated (Desmond has ordered a 580-pound bottle of wine):
I carve into a courgette tart. Desmond heaps English mustard to the left of his tuna. The cuff of his right sleeve rubs into the pesto. The wine is delicious, especially now that I have stopped seeing the reflection of the FT expenses department in my glass.


  1. Aargh, I hate how blogger disappears your comment to sign you into your account! What I said was that I really thought you meant a very heavy bottle of wine, a jeraboam or such. I believe the hyphen is at fault - one would not say 580-dollar bottle of wine, no? Also sympathy. And I appreciate the quote, though that is not compensation.

  2. You might say five-hundred-and-fifty-dollar as a long adjectve - but in this case I really was just too lazy to paste in the real pound sign, I don't know how to make it directly in Blogger!