What a week. So much has happened this week in the world outside the ‘Ed Eats' part of my life that I have hardly had any time to put pen to paper. While I was busy getting on with life, this site was being added to, tweaked, and generally bolstered and plumped up into a fully-fledged, all-systems-go, bells-and-whistles-aplenty news site. I have a couple of neighbours now, Ira above me and the Reverend himself all the way on the top floor. They both make plenty of sense and have an unflinching social conscience. This leaves me free from any shackles of the sort and lets me type away, revealing the hedonistic dandy that I've tried so hard to become.
The week has also seen an admirable display of support for a columnist who has ventured towards new pastures. Her circle of friends signed a petition http://www.petitiononline.com/suntimes/petition.html to bring her back to The Sunday Times. Cute.
It was also a week for strange coincidences. Yesterday you might have read my piece in The Sunday Times, about Two and a half Lemon, in which case you are equipped with the knowledge that they have Philippe Starck's Victoria Ghost chairs.
Last blog entry mentioned the gorgeous interiors of Cafe Cordina. One would consider these completely unrelated but I did walk into Cordina yesterday and noticed a little room that has been recently done up. In true Cafe Cordina fashion it is very tasteful and what do I see there if not two neat rows of Louis Ghost chairs by Starck himself? Are we over-using the crystal-clear, polycarbonate moulded, imitation Louis XV, baroque chairs?
Once again, a veritable army of friends, acquaintances and random strangers have either: commented about my column; commented about this blog; asked to join me for a meal; done all of these; or just sat with me in silence and hoped I'd raise the subject. Believing that the world discriminates against the shy and the ugly, I ignored those who hoped I'd raise the subject and have made a list of the more attractive people who were cheeky enough to invite themselves to a meal with me. Justice, like polycarbonate seating accessories, is overrated.
As much as I would like to gloss over the subject, or fail to mention it completely, this is the week for the most spectacularly over-advertised wine to be released every year. Le Beaujolais nouveau est arrive! The third Thursday of November (one minute past midnight, to be precise) marks the release of this phenomenon that sees almost half the entire region's annual wine yield sold within a couple of weeks. It is all produced from the Gamay variety and thanks to a unique vinification process makes for very easy drinking. The cheaper stuff drunk in large quantities is deceptively easy to drink and your system will be all too quick to remind you about excesses the next morning. The race to take the first bottle across the channel is over but you may still enjoy the wine for another few months if the particular style is to your liking. Chill a few bottles very slightly, pop the cork, dip into jambon cru and chèvre chaud and let the evening spiral away without control.
As is fitting, I will conclude with an introduction. This space will be dedicated to the discussion of grease-spoon type eateries, the purveyors of cheap and dubious sustenance and gratuitous advice, the very pillars upon which our working society balances upon. From a ftira qali to three-dozen ravjul, these establishments keeps the nation's bellies full and satisfied and give change from a pound. Time on my hands, curiosity, hunger, unpredictable circumstances and jobs around the island have left me with an intimate knowledge of a vast quantity of these and I will be sharing the joys and disappointments with you. This way for half-price admission tickets to the cholesterol-greased rollercoaster.