Flavour Guy: Don’t ridicule this April fool and his bird
April is the cruellest month, wrote T.S. Elliot. It’s cruel, he implies, because it disturbs. But, in April, something starts to happen. Here is the end of this part of the poem.
recipe
Flavour Guy: Chicken with the bitsy guy
Our kitchen is stocked with gizmos. A dozen hats hang in the hallway. When will I need a fireman’s helmet? It’s there, just in case.
Flavour Guy: Let out the cat, peel an orange, and sell that house
No one is going to buy our house. The smells are too complex.
Flavour Guy: Give the joy of overdoing it
The best gift I ever gave was a dinner for two.
Flavour Guy: Distance casts a fog over remembrance, retellings
Autumn discomfits us. It is really two seasons in one.