Mystic Pizza

I have just eaten a pizza for lunch. The restaurant is an 'upmarket chain' so I was expecting something a little less ordinary.

What arrived was an obscenely large disk shaped object, its ungainly diameter most probably part of the reason Pluto is losing the battle for its ‘planet’ label. Darkness ensued as it eclipsed the restaurant, emerging from the kitchen. It was covered in what only could be described as baked liposuction waste, the odd anchovy and olive languishing in the fatty slurry. The base and topping had performed a sort of 'Vulcan mind meld' and were indistinguishable.

Naturally I ate it all as I was extremely hungry, but I am beginning to regret it now.

The two bottles of Peroni I drank are making a real mozzarella party in my stomach. Shake me up, turn me upside down, and I could fill a glass with something that would resemble a 'Snowball' cocktail.

I am wondering if red wine would have been a better choice for its well known digestive properties. It would also have helped de-fur my arteries from the oncoming cholesterol slick.

How hard can it be to make a decent pizza? There is no need for cheese overload, and being more creative and generous with other toppings is hardly difficult or expensive. The simpler dishes are always a good bench mark for a restaurant. In this case I will venture to other menu choices with great caution in the future.

Strangely the worst pizza I have ever eaten was in a rural restaurant in the Chianti hills, Italy. It was more like a supermarket basic value kids pizza, waterlogged, and covered in cheap tinned olives. At least I had the presence of mind to drink plenty of good local wine that time, which numbed the pain.

Yellow Fuzz

This year has seen my unimpressive return to tennis after a sizeable absence.
I have missed that odd smell of yellow fuzz and rubber which I am rediscovering at some municipal courts a few hundred yards away from my humble abode, nestled between a shooting gallery for the local vagrants and some run down swings. Charming.

The courts are actually in excellent condition, and are not too crowded due to the general apathy for anything not football.

My backhand has mysteriously all but disappeared, a bit like Agassi's hair, and my forehand is erratic at the best of times. Strange to think that in the year that Andre Agassi is retiring, at age 36, I am starting up again, at the exact same age. Social tennis is the name of my game, but I do like to win.

If I were to get a blister, then I would take the lead from our new British tennis hero, Andrew Murray, and use pickling juice from gherkins, if my local Deli still existed. I am told it is currently pupating, soon to emerge as a swanky wine bar. Maybe I could use some red wine instead as this is meant to have some healing properties when applied to the skin. In parts of India some places are even using red wine as a sort of exfoliating face beauty treatment. I am yet to be convinced that the benefits of wine are anything but internal.

I enjoyed watching Wimbledon this year, but did not get near a ticket. Queens is the easier tournament to get into, as is the French Open. In fact I am intending to travel to Paris with friends next year for that very purpose.

Poles Apart

Just when you thought it was safe the penguin invasion has reached Texas.

In the news today a group of penguins, led by their two friends an exotic fish and an octopus, were involved in a road accident on a Texas highway. There were sadly some fatalities, but most escaped unscathed. Disney could not have come up with a better set of cartoon travelling companions.

Much like our friends the penguins I will be visiting the USA at the end of next month. I am flying into San Francisco to see family, which is well placed for wine regions. I read that some nutty professor of wine has just come up with a magnetic gadget on show in Napa, California. It is claimed to improve the taste of cheaper wine. The magnets are supposed to have the 'Uri Geller' effect and magically change the shape of the tannins which in turn makes the wine smoother. This theory has already been rubbished by chemists, but for some unknown reason people like buying into the 'healing properties' of magnets. The improvement in flavour is more likely to derive from the aeration part of the device.

I intend to drive down the Pacific Coast Highway to Santa Barbara and then to LA, dodging any inebriated film stars and wacky celebrities on the way. If I find one of those tannin morphing devices I will put it to its best use as a fridge magnet.

Package Penguins

With all the enthusiasm in New World wines, I have yet to come across a wine from Brazil. Odd, because if a peckish deity decided to bite a Brazil sized chunk out of South America there would not be much left.

Maybe I should ask one of the hoards of penguins visiting Rio on a package deal from Antarctica. They have clearly chosen to get away from the cold and endless diet of fish and salt water to sample the climate, wine and food of Brazil. Who can blame them, as drinking sea water certainly does not sound that appealing when they have just discovered that a litre can contain up to 20,000 different types of bacteria.

I have noticed that the penguins do insist on wearing suits on the beach which must be rather uncomfortable. Rumour has it that their luggage was lost in transit, and the 'EasyIce' they arrived on has sadly melted. Sound familiar? They are now relying on the Brazilian Air Force to fly them back.

At home, Penguins extract the salt ingested from drinking sea water with glands under their eyes. The salt gets shaken out of their bill. This makes them a sort of organic salt sellar and desalination plant. Penguins are very useful creatures. 'Pass the penguin dear'.
These cute suited flightless birds are even starting to influence the wine market. There is a brand called 'The Little Penguin' in Australia which I have yet to try.

If any penguins out there can recommend a good Brazilian wine then please leave a suggestion below.