Started to feel a bit better today (thanks for asking). I don’t feel totally back to normal, but I was certainly well enough to take to the canals for a 20 mile bike ride, and abuse my temperamental belly with some delicious “Cadbury’s Creme Egg” ice cream. I didn’t get any Easter eggs, so this themed ice-cream was the closest thing to a taste of resurrected Christ this year (though I bet Deidre Barlow would have ensured my cupboards were well furnished with such seasonal treats). Nevertheless I cannot recommend Creme Egg ice cream enough. It is second only to the new Bournville bars with bits of orange peel stuck in them; which I can assure you taste a lot better than language has allowed me to describe here. Don’t get me wrong, I also really like regular Bournvilles, but generally find myself to be sated after 4 squares. With the orange stuff, I can easily devour more than that – sometimes even as much as 6 or 7 squares in a single sitting! I’m not joking either. I probably need to pull the reigns in a bit before I find myself on the rocky path to a real-life Alan Partridge-esque breakdown.
After the epic bike ride, I awarded myself with a pub lunch. I opted for “Hunter’s Chicken” - a chicken wrapped in slices of bacon. I am unsure as to why a chicken wrapped in bacon is called Hunter’s Chicken. Since the hunting of meat is the very cornerstone of the hunter’s profession, you’d think that if they are going out for a meal they’d probably prefer to try something a bit different, maybe a nice salmon fishcake or something.
Hunter’s chicken... What sort of hunter just goes after standard farmyard animals? Surely farmers already have that corner of the market sewn up? A real hunter worth his salt should present something more daring, like deer steak wrapped in a coat of bear’s fu
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