Raven Mad

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore —
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“‘Tis some visiter,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door —

Not a Raven after all

Not a Raven after all

OK it wasn’t the Raven, but a pheasant sitting on our window sill at the Alton Towers Hotel last weekend.

‘I’ve never been so close to a pheasant before’ quoth the Powder Monkey

‘you were when we ate one’ I replied.

I made sure the window was well fastened I didn’t want to come back and discover he’d invited his mates round to scoff the complimentary biscuits.

Party room 105 everyones invited.

Party room 105 everyone’s invited.

Taralli Con Mandorle

These were the culinary discovery of our trip to Italy

Taralli con Mandorle

Sitting proudly in the bread basket is the last surviving Taralli con Mandorle of the evening. Somewhere between a bread and a biscuit they are flavoured with black pepper and poppy seeds. Apparently the dough is boiled before baking like a bagel, but where a bagel is soft, the Taralli is dry. They are great with drinks, so we bought a couple of packets to bring home.