It’s a cruel March morning out there. Brutal easterly wind flinging sharp snow into the windows, and my car is nothing more than a white heap outside. On the upside, Waitrose are doing 33% off their rather decent prosecco, and I have all the ingredients in the fridge for spaghetti carbonara. What’s not to like? I vote pyjama day.
There has been much amusement in my house about the horsemeat scandal. What’s the problem? Nothing wrong with a bit of horsemeat. I should know. I used to live in France. It also seemed a bit rich that people should start acting all outraged when their cheap, no-questions-asked, 7p per unit frozen beefburgers turned out not to be made of prime cuts of rib. What did they think they were eating?