Nobody wants to have a go at the papers these days, seeing as they
are all still smarting from the inquiries and court cases. Give them a
break, I say. Not for me to have a go, having passed many a happy hour
with the best of Fleet Street myself, once upon a time.
Then I
pick up the Sunday Times mag. Pretty girl on the front, teeth deep into a
chicken drumstick. A tough call that, looking pretty, beehive hairdo
and lips wrapped around a wodge of roast bird. Still, she pulls it off.
She's the new Sunday Times cook, Gizzi Erskine. Nice. Great name for a
cook, seems right somehow.
Then I take a look at the rest of the
pic, and apart from the well-mauled chicken there's no cooked food at
all! The table's covered in goodies, but what with the bakewell tarts
still in their silver foil cases and the pink icing on the french
fancies it's clear thet Mr Kipling has been hard at work but nobody else
has.
Why would you do that? Have yourself pictured promoting your
new cookery job with a pineapple, a melon, some tomatoes and
shop-bought cakes? Add a couple of glasses of fizzy plonk for class,
obviously. I'm sure she's a great cook. The recipes inside seem fine,
but I find myself tempted by those french fancies, always a favourite of
mine. The ST upstaged by Mr K, Times must be hard.
PS If you like the way I write get Devil Deal by Liz Freeman, FREE on Kindle until midnight Sunday, July 14. Not got a Kindle? Download the free Kindle app and read it wherever you want. It's a fun summer read, plenty of twists and turns and getting rave reviews.
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