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A Month to View with Judi Spiers April 2012

PUBLISHED: 15:07 23 March 2012 | UPDATED: 12:10 28 February 2013

A Month to View  with Judi Spiers April 2012

A Month to View with Judi Spiers April 2012

Judi Spiers has been hit by the dreaded lurghie, and takes the opportunity to binge on Lucozade


UURGH!

I am writing this from my sickbed. In all the years I have rattled around this planet I have never had the flu. In fact, I seldom get a cold, and if I do it lasts a couple of days. In the past I have cavalierly waved away offers of flu jabs when doing panto and hidden a smug smirk when those who accepted fell like swatted flies, always maintaining that my healthy lifestyle, constant spraying of essential oils, and secret-recipe green stuff soup would see me right.

To be fair it has workeduntil now. Boy, oh boy, someone was saving this one up for me. The headache, the fever, the cough, the nostrils blocked with cement but nobody told me I would feel like I needed two hip replacements and a spine re-alignment! Whats that all about?

On the third day I ventured a peek in the mirror and thought my late mother had come back for a visit! The one bright moment has been that at my grand age I can drink as much Lucozade as I want to. No mother leaning over the bed pointing a finger at me and saying: Just a small glass. Its not lemonade you know! Well, Mum, if youre listening, yes it is, that is exactly what it is! Im sure the stress of having that bottle on my bedside table as a child and not being able to drink it willy-nilly only added to my poor health. But what have they done to the bottle? The other great joy of the old model was the cellophane - moments of fun spreading it across your face and looking at everything as it magically turned orange.

One thing I didnt try was

CURRY

Now, I am a lover. Having lived in Birmingham for a while I have eaten some historic and to be fair some dire curries. Because, of course, it is no guarantee that just because the chef is of the culture, or the particular restaurant is where all the locals go, the food will be good. After all, my school dinner ladies were all lovely Westcountry-born-and-bred ladies didnt make the food good!

Anyway, imagine my delight when I was asked to help to find Exeters Curry Chef of the Year 2012 in a competition organised by the Council hosted by Exeter Colleges @34 restaurant. Nine restaurants competed: the idea being that they each cooked a side dish, a rice dish and a main course. .

I was dying to get stuck in as soon as I got there, and really didnt need to be talked through what I was looking for. Let the dog see the rabbit, for goodness sake.

Started off very genteelly. That didnt last long and soon found myself having to sample the same dish several times, and I think I might have let myself down by asking for some chutney!

Sadly I found out that day that you can have too much of a good thing, although never have I had such clear sinuses. Well done to Chadnis Abdul Kayum, by the way!

CHEESE

This is another weakness of mine and led to a very embarrassing experience recently. As Vice Patron of Families for Children I was asked to host an auction at a fundraising evening. Being a school night, I was once again wheel man leaving Wrong End to indulge. (The last time this happened, you may remember, it led to our inability to find our way home from Sandy Park, a journey of less than five miles!)

This time we ended up, having bid for a 3-course dinner party, in the North Devon country home of Sir G and Lady CW for 14 people. I shallnt name names in this story in this instance to protect the guilty! We were a mixed bunch, to say the least: the party including a magistrate and her husband an ex-policeman, charity boss and businessman husband, Russian interpreter, ex-police chief from the Sudan, financial advisor and journalist, which made for some fascinating chat.

Our gracious hosts fed us royally on game and produce from their estate with plenty of lubrication, and amid apologies of much to do the next day, retired at a reasonable hour but encouraged those of us who were staying to retire to the lounge for as long as we wanted to.

Well, someone mentioned cheese, which, Im afraid, had the effect of turning me into a latter-day Ben Gunn. I became a woman possessed, maintaining I couldnt possibly think of bed without cheese. Like three naughty schoolboys, Wrong End, Financial Adviser and ex-Policeman stole into the kitchen on the hunt, only to be caught by Sir G mid-act!

Gracious as ever, our host obliged and the beast was sated. The embarrassment of it all almost made me choke on my chvre!

And now, Mother, if you are watching, its back to my sickbed and second bottle of Lucozade... because I can!



Judi Spiers has been hitby the dreaded lurghie, and takes the opportunity to binge on Lucozade

UURGH!I am writing this from my sickbed. In all the years I have rattled around this planet I have never had the flu. In fact, I seldom get a cold, and if I do it lasts a couple of days. In the past I have cavalierly waved away offers of flu jabs when doing panto and hidden a smug smirk when those who accepted fell like swatted flies, always maintaining that my healthy lifestyle, constant spraying of essential oils, and secret-recipe green stuff soup would see me right.To be fair it has workeduntil now. Boy, oh boy, someone was saving this one up for me. The headache, the fever, the cough, the nostrils blocked with cement but nobody told me I would feel like I needed two hip replacements and a spine re-alignment! Whats that all about?On the third day I ventured a peek in the mirror and thought my late mother had come back for a visit! The one bright moment has been that at my grand age I can drink as much Lucozade as I want to. No mother leaning over the bed pointing a finger at me and saying: Just a small glass. Its not lemonade you know! Well, Mum, if youre listening, yes it is, that is exactly what it is! Im sure the stress of having that bottle on my bedside table as a child and not being able to drink it willy-nilly only added to my poor health. But what have they done to the bottle? The other great joy of the old model was the cellophane - moments of fun spreading it across your face and looking at everything as it magically turned orange.One thing I didnt try was

CURRYNow, I am a lover. Having lived in Birmingham for a while I have eaten some historic and to be fair some dire curries. Because, of course, it is no guarantee that just because the chef is of the culture, or the particular restaurant is where all the locals go, the food will be good. After all, my school dinner ladies were all lovely Westcountry-born-and-bred ladies didnt make the food good!Anyway, imagine my delight when I was asked to help to find Exeters Curry Chef of the Year 2012 in a competition organised by the Council hosted by Exeter Colleges @34 restaurant. Nine restaurants competed: the idea being that they each cooked a side dish, a rice dish and a main course. .I was dying to get stuck in as soon as I got there, and really didnt need to be talked through what I was looking for. Let the dog see the rabbit, for goodness sake. Started off very genteelly. That didnt last long and soon found myself having to sample the same dish several times, and I think I might have let myself down by asking for some chutney!Sadly I found out that day that you can have too much of a good thing, although never have I had such clear sinuses. Well done to Chadnis Abdul Kayum, by the way!CHEESEThis is another weakness of mine and led to a very embarrassing experience recently. As Vice Patron of Families for Children I was asked to host an auction at a fundraising evening. Being a school night, I was once again wheel man leaving Wrong End to indulge. (The last time this happened, you may remember, it led to our inability to find our way home from Sandy Park, a journey of less than five miles!)This time we ended up, having bid for a 3-course dinner party, in the North Devon country home of Sir G and Lady CW for 14 people. I shallnt name names in this story in this instance to protect the guilty! We were a mixed bunch, to say the least: the party including a magistrate and her husband an ex-policeman, charity boss and businessman husband, Russian interpreter, ex-police chief from the Sudan, financial advisor and journalist, which made for some fascinating chat.Our gracious hosts fed us royally on game and produce from their estate with plenty of lubrication, and amid apologies of much to do the next day, retired at a reasonable hour but encouraged those of us who were staying to retire to the lounge for as long as we wanted to.Well, someone mentioned cheese, which, Im afraid, had the effect of turning me into a latter-day Ben Gunn. I became a woman possessed, maintaining I couldnt possibly think of bed without cheese. Like three naughty schoolboys, Wrong End, Financial Adviser and ex-Policeman stole into the kitchen on the hunt, only to be caught by Sir G mid-act!Gracious as ever, our host obliged and the beast was sated. The embarrassment of it all almost made me choke on my chvre!And now, Mother, if you are watching, its back to my sickbed and second bottle of Lucozade... because I can!

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