Relict

Sunshine beim Wintergarten heno [there's a linguistic mix for you...] with a brace of wooden ducks and artificial flowers for colour. More important though, is the glass of Italian Primitivo in the foreground, or rather the goblet in which it sits. This venerable old wine glass is pretty much the last survivor of the 1980/90s heyday of the competitive cookery that cemented our friendship with Alan and Irene over forty -odd years. I've written recently about the origins of this long-standing tradition [blog posts passim, and in response to observations about the difficulties of navigating the archive of my scribbles, I'm thinking about mirroring this site in a more accessible form, so I will keep you posted if this thought train hits the tracks any time soon], but since Alan's illness and passing, these collective culinary endeavours have essentially withered and ceased themselves. This rather knackered, chipped and wobbly old glass was part of a set they passed on to us decades ago when they bought some new tableware: this single specimen is all that remains of that era, apart from the memories of some fabulous food, wine, cigars and music shared over many, many meals during those forty-some years; so it seems only appropriate to continue to imbibe a glass or six from it in memory of such great evenings, as far into the future as I can...