A tale of olden times, full of grief, pain, misery and woe .............. that's a Saga
It's also the names of the devious beggars who suckered me into their marketing trap. I recently received a reminder from the AA to renew my car insurance including a pretty reasonable quote, now, being as financially astute as the next chap, (assuming the next chap is also a poverty stricken half-witted spendthrift) , I decided to take advantage of my half-century and check out the sort of discount I could get for having driven around this horrendously congested island for 30 years killing and maiming very few folk (even though many deserve it). I googled SAGA and proceede
d to search for the promised special rates offered to those who (presumably) are safer drivers because they pootle along in the middle lane of empty motorways at 55 mph wearing string backed driving gloves and looking forward to getting the thermos out. In order to provide a quote their website required address, d.o.b, driving history and car details, the quote was way (40% !!) more than the AA had offered so I exited the old folks website with unseemly haste. I now find myself deluged on an almost daily basis with direct mail reminding me of my advancing years, welcoming me to the doddering community, expounding the hitherto unconsidered thrill of caravanning and offering me the delights of holiday cruises. As Mrs Stuffy so kindly opined there can be few holiday experiences as soul destroying to consider as being trapped, for a week, on a boat, with 300 people like me.
She has a point...
A (very) late Burns supper on Friday night ...
... as always triggered by my desire to get my moneys worth from the kilt which I bought for my wedding, a splendid thing in the traditional McStuffy tartan. A starter of filo tartelets
, stuffed with haggis under a brioche and herb crust, Collops of venison (from these chaps) with a sloe gin sauce, served with Rumbledethumps (that's neeps/tatties and shredded savoy cabbage) followed by Cranachan Parfait, a recipe supplied by the chef from Ackergill Tower, scene of the magnificent Stuffy nuptials a few years hence.
I've been informed by my lovely spouse that I was drunk, argumentative and rude to our guests.
So, got the hang of the Scots thing then!
Movie review - Motown musical divides the audience ...
In keeping with our deeply held views on the insanity of dining out on Valentines day we (well, half of 'we') decided to view 'Dreamgirls' at our local fount of flickering filmic fantasy.
Opinion was divided
Mrs Stuffy "fabulous, brilliant, great film, incredible, what a voice that girl has, what great music, heart wrenching performances, superb songs"
Mr Stuffy "lot of singing"
Valentines day dining ...
I'm sure there'll be many of you surprised to hear that, despite my well deserved reputation as a hopeless old romantic, I'm not a fan of the 'Valentines day dining experience'. It was nicely summed up by a restauranteur of my acquaintance recently as the best and worst day of the catering year. What did he like ?... average food, prepared in batches, set menu, squeeze as many in as you can, jack up the prices. However, his staff hate it, there's no ambiance, it feels like duty-dining, they don't sell much drink (surprisingly), there's very poor tipping.
I do recall a couple of years ago Mrs S and I surviving a Valentines day supper in a pleasant enough Thai restaurant in Virginia Water. The couple adjacent to us spent an intense 30 minutes dissecting their miserable lives (in frankly, way too much detail), over the starter, We weren't deliberately eavesdropping but in keeping with the pack 'em in philosophy she was sitting closer to me than Mrs S was. He stormed off to the loo between courses and returned to find she'd settled the bill and was on her way out of the car park. On the upside it did make a normally tedious evening a little more entertaining for the rest of us.
A notable Valentines' day dinner was when a chum rang me in the morning having failed to locate a restaurant for himself and his lady love, despite my understandable misgivings he cajoled me into inviting them along to our prebooked repast. The restaurant was very accomodating and we had a lovely meal spoiled only by the fact that they arrived "not talking to each other" and maintained that policy throughout the evening, good news for the restaurant as the wine bill (social anaesthetic) was stupendous.
Don't you know we're riding on the Marrakech express....
...as Crosby,Stills and Nash so eloquently wrote. Her ladyship and I have now returned from a delightful weekend in the town that gave Morrocco its name. We're very relaxed after a few days in the lovely Riad Meriem which I heartily commend to any of my gentle readers seeking a weekend of chilling out or battery re-charging
There's something delightful about the contrast between the bustle, noise, smells colour and frantic energy of the town and souks compared with the peace and tranquility you discover after nervously trying to retrace your steps through twisting and turning alleys and derbs until eventually you identify the correct beaten wood door and step through into a veritable oasis of calm.
A few observations on the town and the trip...
Shopping - it doesn't take long to overdose on millions of brightly coloured slippers, kaftans, bags, rubbish copies of musical instruments and an embarrasment of tagines, and ladies, you aren't a failure if you come home un-encumbered with cheap tat.
Haggling - ensure that your partner understands the principles of haggling, It's very surreal when your wife starts siding with the vendor you've just beaten down to a price approaching sensible for something she wants and you don't.
Sitting - in a nice bar with a nice beer watching people rushing about is good
Guilt - try not to let it get to you, the King of Morrocco seems to have a really nice house, bet he doesn't lose much sleep about the beggars
Dignity - if you are a tall whingeing ugly bloke and choose to demonstrate your frustration and discomfort with the standard seating on a BA flight by thumping the seatback of the (equally tall but infinitely more sensible and attractive) chap in front of you, as I explained at the time you pathetic twerp, slightly uncomfortable knees are likely to be the least of your problems, upgrade or shut up. Throwing a five year olds' tantrum is about as effective as holding your 
breath till you go blue although slightly more entertaining for the adults in your audience. " I demand to speak to the Captain!" forsooth !!! "he's driving the plane you twonk, what do you think he'll do, come down here with his Swiss army knife and reconfigure the cabin?" In the circumstances the fact that you were able to walk off the plane should be counted a fine result. All credit to the stewardess (Claire) who handled the situation very well, and wouldn't let me get at him.
Checking the bill - we were in the riad for 4 nights, we dined out on two of them, how did we get through eight bottles of wine ?
Restaurants 1 - Le Fondouk is good and was an excellent choice for Mrs Stuffy's birthday dinner, (you may recall that this trip was the result of my Christmas present from Mrs S, a trip to Marrakech to celebrate her birthday, I hope she enjoys the climbing holiday in the Cairngorms I'm getting her).
Restaurants 2- places in the big market place are not advised, no drink and tourist trap food.
Museums - must mean something different in Arabic, everything in the museum dated from the late 20th century, well so does everything in my wardrobe but I'd not have the nerve to charge 60 dirhams to let you look at my old shirts
Restaurants 3 - Yacout is impressive but not worth the money.
Health and fitness - As predicted the irresistable nature of e-coli and it's little buddies has ensured that despite eating and drinking far too much I've actually returned a little thinner than I departed, indeed I'm finding that I now have many opportunites to sit and consider the mysteries of our little bacterial chums and the dramatic effects they can deliver.
And the Daily Express said... let there be snow ...
I was intrigued this morning to see that in a desperate effort to compete with the immediacy of other news sources, (TV radio and the internet) our tabloid newspapers are now employing prescient journalists who are using their supernatural abilities to write and publish tomorrows headlines today, so despite the the fact that no snow has yet fallen, we're finding that "7 inches of snow will paralyze the uk" ... what a positive view we have of our brave men and women in the front line, defending our transport infrastructure from the relentless pressures of one of the most hostile climates on Earth. I must confess that were I a snow-plough driver, I'd probably stay in bed tomorrow given the inevitability of my failure to sort out the M25.
One can only hope that the vagaries of sudden and dramatic climate change will not hinder myself and Mrs S as we attempt to leave (albeit briefly) the frozen misery of Ice-age Britain for the warmth, colour and intestinal challenge of sunny Marrakech.
Curious symptoms...
I've been suffering from a toothache for the last few days, none of the usual symptons one would associate with a toothache, instead a continuous and unrelenting whining noise and an
irritating and persistent pain in the neck.
Those of you who think I'm being less than charitable towards the blessed Nurse Stuffy and her dental agony need to have some experience of her famous bedside manner towards the sick, the halt and lame which makes Vlad the Impaler look like Ghandi by comparison.
One of my top 5 favourite restaurants in the world is ...
Gordon Ramsay's Boxwood Cafe in swinging London town, it's more user friendly than his other showpieces, the food is awesome, but not over fussy, high quality, beautifully presented but designed for easy-going eating, served by (lots of) enthusiastic, informed, efficient, affable folk. Mrs Stuffy and I have shared a few splendid meals 'a deux' (it's an anniversary favourite) there and this week we took
along convivial chums James and his lovely but long suffering wife, known to the world as "she's wasted on him you know!"
Despite a late arrival and my insistence on wearing the luminous electric blue suit (I don't get out much, maybe that's why) we were made very welcome and settled down to a spendid gustatory experience. In a cavalcade of dishes, each a triumph of cheffery, I must single out my foie gras starter which was mouthmeltingly awesome although so lightly cooked, that as James observed, a competent vet probably could have saved it. We managed a glass or many of some delightful Sancerre and a very appealing Rioja, sorry Mark, (click on Mark to see how a restaurant review should look) no dates or labels but they were lovely.
And the other 4 in my top 5 ? (not necessarily the best but a very personal choice)
The River Cafe, Brooklyn - Unmatchable ambiance, great food, incredible views and great staff
Le Manoir au quat saisons - just really, really, really good (and I've cooked in their kitchens)
The Bombay Brasserie - I love a curry, a Sunday buffet here after a Saturday night indulgence is a terrific experience.
Le Signal maybe not the best mountain restaurant in L'espace Killy but it's pretty damn good and it's where I got engaged.
d to search for the promised special rates offered to those who (presumably) are safer drivers because they pootle along in the middle lane of empty motorways at 55 mph wearing string backed driving gloves and looking forward to getting the thermos out. In order to provide a quote their website required address, d.o.b, driving history and car details, the quote was way (40% !!) more than the AA had offered so I exited the old folks website with unseemly haste. I now find myself deluged on an almost daily basis with direct mail reminding me of my advancing years, welcoming me to the doddering community, expounding the hitherto unconsidered thrill of caravanning and offering me the delights of holiday cruises. As Mrs Stuffy so kindly opined there can be few holiday experiences as soul destroying to consider as being trapped, for a week, on a boat, with 300 people like me.
