Tuesday, 1 October 2013

Why food matters to Kevin

Remember Kevin?
Yes? Good, you've been following this blog long enough then.
No? Where the bloody hell have you been? Go sit on the naughty step and read this. And this. Tsk.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. Kevin.

So the masses that are the Kevinettes descended on the Aussie Solicitor's home on Monday night: a full house, bantering and laughing and chatting and drinking and discussing the two books we had read since our last rendezvous.

We all loved one of them - even the couple amongst us who had not quite read (or finished) the book yet were as enthusiastic about it, so rich were the plaudits. Beautifully written, touching, upsetting and both unspeakably stoic and tragic, you have to keep on remembering that these are true stories and of a time so very recent. One of the best reads Kevin has ever had, we all agreed.

Note: if you have not read it either, then get a copy quick smart, it is brilliant. And then make sure you also watch this film.

As for the other book, barely two of us had finished the whole tome, others were struggling and the rest decided they would not bother after all. Why? Let's just say that when you read about the billions of dollars wasted on 'psychological warfare' by the US in the pursuit of, essentially, trying to walk through walls - yes, really - or killing goats merely by staring at them, you either keep on reading because you think someone is going to suddenly say, "Joke! I was kidding!" (they don't, they are totally serious), or you give up because it portrays certain elements of the American establishment (very high up the chain of command, which is more unsettling) as being, well, fundamentally stupid.

Make your own mind up.

Now when I said we were a full house, well, we were eventually.

The Lovely Radiographer was fashionably late and joined us straight at the dinner table. After the silence that accompanied the usual food troughing eating - pierced only by praise for the delicious meal - she piped up.

"What's for pudding?"

We all laughed, but she was dead serious.

She continued, "Because if it's some creamy milky fancy fluffy thing, I'll have seconds (of the main) instead!"

(nb. there is a case of lactose intolerance here which puts things in to context)

It wasn't. Creamy milky fancy fluffy thing, that is.
It was the most amazing boiled orange cake ever. Dairy free, no less.

So we had seconds of that.
Kevin hates waste.
Books or otherwise.



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