Lincolnshire Poacher

Cheese stocks had got low by the beginning of last week, so a visit to London Town was called for, despite that Wednesday being a cold and dreary day, with lots of leaves having been knocked down by the rain overnight.

Just the one Bullingdon

Something wrong with the trains, so the Waterloo train went via Putney. For the first time ever, I got a glimpse of a construction worker on top of what had been the turbine hall of Battersea Power Station, a refurbishment which seems to have been on go-slow for years now. A go-slow involving lots of stationary tower cranes. But perhaps the refurbishment really is grinding to a conclusion. Then through the wrong platform at Vauxhall, slowing down as if to stop, but failing so to do. And so on to Waterloo.

Not a lot of Bullingdons on the ramp, but there was one that worked towards the bottom and I made it to the Grand Temple in the fast time of 7 minutes and 23 seconds. Records not as thick on the ground as I had thought, but the most recent that I could find, from May, logged the journey at 11 minutes and 36 seconds, a rather unlikely sounding increase over such a short distance. But computers never lie do they?

To the cheese shop in Short's Gardens for my regular ration of Poacher, two pieces of about a pound each, on this occasion coming to a touch more than a kilogram. Then there was a small sack of rather organic looking walnuts, said to be from France, so having not got on very well on their hazel nuts, I took a chance on a pound of their walnuts, reasonably priced at £4 or so. Which meant that, for the first time in quite a long time, I had to take a new plastic bag, one of the small, sturdy bags which do sterling service at picnics in and around the Wigmore Hall.

Two tourists in the shop, perhaps French, spending a lot of time tasting lots of different cheeses. Not at all clear that they were going to end up spending much money, but I suppose that if you are a fancy cheese shop, tasting tourists is just one of the overheads. Maybe they pull in more of the same just by being there.

Recto

Verso

From the sky

Down to Terroirs for a spot of lunch, where we were surprised to find the place busy and near full, this being a mid-week lunchtime. The theory was advanced that places like Terroirs do most of their business in November and December, coasting for the rest of the year. Maybe I will manage one more visit this year to check?

Started with bread. Thought about onglet but could not remember what it was, beyond that I had rather liked it when I had had it (no reception so unable to check the record, even had I been so minded; the sort of thing one should do at home, with a proper computer), so settled for green lentils with a couple of strips of duck draped across the top of the pile, with extra bread. I could not remember what wine I had last time, so opted for something new, which turned out rather well. Probably the people at reference 1, probably the red cup in the middle of the snap above. Les Vignes de Paradis, IGP vin des Allobroges Savagnin - 2018. With 'IGP' being a bit of euro speak standing for 'Indication Géographique Protégée'. With the vineyard being a bit of France, tucked in up against the Swiss border, a little to the north east of Geneva.

After all this lot a bit full and so almost passed on pudding, but in the end went for another portion of their Schlossberger cheese, from just up the road from Emmenthal. With still more white bread. Rounded off with a couple of walnuts from up the road here in London and a spot of the now traditional Calvados. Both very good. The waiter did not seem to understand the concept of nut crackers, but when I waved a walnut at him, he simply inserted a knife into the end and twisted. Job done. Something I should have thought of myself, but perhaps the wine was starting to do its work.

Wetherspoon's shares

We spend some breath on Mr. Wetherspoon, a very successful public house entrepreneur who probably employs thousands of people from Europe but who campaigns for Brexit, to the extent of spending his company's money on Brexit beermats and other promotional material. A spending for which he was recently rebuked, not having been thought to have properly asked his shareholders about it. While at Terroirs, the theory was advanced that his stance was just a stunt, a theory which I pooh-poohed at the time, but now I am not so sure. Thinking about it some more, he might have just come to his Brexit view in his cups and then stuck to his guns - partly because he likes to make a splash, partly to show that he could do what he like with what he no doubt regards as his company - and partly for the publicity, publicity on which he no doubt thrives. The flamboyant entrepreneur.

Exercise bike

Outside to snap a bicycle which I would have thought rather hard work, despite what looked like battery assistance. I would also have thought rather dangerous in traffic, quite difficult to control.

Discrete pattern

I noticed, for what must be the first time for a while, the discrete pattern of the limestone cladding to the flank walls of the Festival Hall. Rather handsome. A building which, for me, remains a good example of post war architecture - before it all went to pot in the 1970's.

Non-scoring piano

Inside the Hall, I snapped what looked like a good quality upright piano in something called the Cube - but neither the ticket office people nor the welcome people were able to tell me the make - so no score on this occasion.

Paper chains

Walnuts

Turned up various opportunities for a further beverage, but back at Epsom I did fall for the two trolleys noticed at reference 4, the return of which provided an opportunity to admire the large format paper chains that had been hung up in the Ashley Centre. With small format paper chains being the staple of Christmas decorations when I was a child. Chains which moved at some point onto lick and stick from the ones to which you had to apply your own glue from a bottle, which required both patience and practise.

Home to try some more of the walnuts. Much better than they looked, but a little bitter if you ate too many of them at one go. I shall buy some more if they still have them next time.

PS: if I had bought a share in Wetherspoon's every time I had had a drink in one of their houses - or even just the one at Tooting - over the past twenty five years, I would have done very nicely on capital growth, not so nicely on dividend income, presently running at below 1%. Perhaps Mr. Tim draws a very handsome salary instead. And, incidentally, a leader who has been in place for a very long time by the 'suit' standards of corporate governance. 10 years at the top and you're out being a good rule of thumb in most walks of life.

Reference 1: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2019/11/tippett.html. The last visit to Terroirs.

Reference 2: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2018/09/cheese-hunt.html. The last visit to Terroirs involving onglet.

Reference 3: https://www.les-vignes-de-paradis.fr/. The grapes, presently on this home page, suggest to me why Snyders painted the grapes the way he did, the grapes that I complained of at the end of reference 5 below. Perhaps I don't see grapes outdoors, in sunlight, often enough.

Reference 4: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2019/11/trolley-333.html.

Reference 5: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2019/11/conspicuous-consumption.html.