Jingle bells

On the way to the eat yesterday we had a bit of time to kill so we stopped off for an apero. Fancying a vodka tonic, Paula counselled that I ask for a small vodka because they normally pour huge ones. What arrived? A glass, two thirds full of vodka. Still, whilst that slipped down nicely, we had some entertainment by way of a busking Father Christmas. Paula's mum also ordered a bunch of nibbles including my favorite, chiperones, fried baby squid. This is the life.

Yet another resto

There are some lovely and unusual buildings around Barcelona. At the bottom of the one above was today's restaurant. Again we couldn't get in until 15.30 (for lunch) and Restaurante Envalira, Planeta 35 (Plaza del Sol) was packed. Doesn't anybody cook around here? Weekends and holidays, the inhabitants of Barcelona eat out, because there's a huge choice of high quality inexpensive restaurants.

Anyway, I'm not complaining - I got my fix of Arroz Negro. Jan, on the other hand, tried something new. An Italian style risotto which was absolutely delicious. This is the place for me.

I'm in love

El Panxa del Bisbe

Hola! from a grey but warm Barcelona. After an uneventful drive down in the Porsche (VW model) we checked into our hotel and then shot over to El Planxa del Bisbe, Carrer de Rabassa, in Gracia, to meet Ben, Paula and grandchild Kate. Lunch had been booked for 3.00pm, can you believe that? You wouldn't even get a phone reply at a restaurant in France at 15.00 never mind booking lunch at such an hour, but this is Barca and everything happens just that bit later here.

Anyway, family Tillott were in fine form and Jan, ignoring all else, spent the first 5 minutes cuddling Kate. At which point Ben (Jan's eldest) held out his hand and said, "Hi, I'm Ben. I'm Kate's father."

This is an excellent and unusual Catalan tapas restaurant that offers just the kind of food that Jan and I like. Plate after plate of different bites kept arriving and we finished lunch at 17.00. Superb.

We love this area of Barcelona. Gracia has a great 'village' feel. Later that evening we, along with lots of other families, strolled back to the hotel in the warm evening air passing many little shops beautifully decorated for Christmas. Perfect.

You naughty boy

Jan came back from her walk with the dogs this afternoon shaking and generally in a bit of a state. Whilst they were out in the countryside, Max had disappeared for a short time and then turned up with a chicken in his mouth. He was rather proud of his effort but Jan, a pacifist, was not. He killed the chicken. Jan was not a happy bunny (but then neither was the chicken) and it took some time to get Max back on a lead so that she could examine the beheaded, ex-poulet. Jan said that it might have died of fright until I pointed out that with a missing head it was probably a bit more decisive than that.

We composed a short note to the suspected owner and went round to drop it in his postbox. I say suspected because we couldn't be absolutely certain where Max had found the chicken but we had our suspicion.

Next step was to visit the Mairie to see William and explain what had happened. He found it very amusing and said that in the past his dog had killed several chickens and that it had cost him quite a bit in compensation. Thanks Max.

Show them to me

Robin just sent me this. I've no idea why he thought I might like it, but I did.

So true

Le Cheval Blanc, Nimes

We went to Nimes yesterday for various bits and pieces, and whilst we were there we decided to check out Bob's recommendation of Le Cheval Blanc, 1 Place des Arenes, 0466 76 19 59. What a good recommendation.

Unusually for a restaurant in Nimes, it was furnished brasserie style with waiters, who were smart, friendly and professional, to match. In addition to the carte they offered a 14€ and 26€ lunch menu. This is also a wine bar so the wine list was extensive, if not a little pricey, and we chose a Clos des Augustins, Les Gamins 2006 from Pic Saint Loup. In this kind of situation I nearly always chose a local wine because if I like it I can go buy some more. I liked it.

Jan started with a duck terrine which she thought was 'OK' and my artichoke salad was excellent. Next Jan had fish which was very fresh and well cooked and I had a very tender steak. The dauphinoise potatoes were as nice as I've ever had. Thanks Bob for the excellent advice.

On the funny side, as I was scribbling my notes about the meal, Michel who called himself "the boss of the place" came over, bypassing all the other tables, and introduced himself. He could at least have knocked something off the bill!

Socrates

In ancient Greece (469 - 399 BC), Socrates was widely lauded for his wisdom.

One day, an acquaintance ran up to him excitedly and said, 'Socrates, do you know what I just heard about one of your students?''

Wait a moment,' Socrates replied, 'Before you tell me I'd like you to pass a little test. It's called the Triple Filter Test.'

'Triple filter?' asked the acquaintance.

'That's right,' Socrates continued. 'Before you talk to me about my student let's take a moment to filter what you're going to say. The first filter is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?'

'No,' the man said, 'actually I just heard about it.'

'All right,' said Socrates. 'So you don't really know if it's true or not. Now let's try the second filter, the filter of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my student something good?'

'No, on the contrary ...'.

'So,' Socrates continued, 'you want to tell me something bad about him, even though you're not certain it's true?'

The man shrugged, a little embarrassed. Socrates continued. 'You may still pass the test though, because there is a third filter - the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my student going to be useful to me?'

'No, not really...'

'Well,' concluded Socrates, 'if what you want to tell me is neither True nor Good nor even Useful, why tell it to me at all?'

The man was defeated and ashamed.

This is the reason Socrates was a great philosopher and held in such high esteem.

It also explains why he never found out that Plato was shagging his missus.

Lost in translation

As we returned home tonight we met Alain the artist (above) and invited him back for a drink. Not only do we think that he's a talented artist but he has also been a good friend and source of information for us over the years.

Anyway, we're chatting to him over a glass (or two) of Coste Plane rosé when he said that he'd tasted a nice rosé from Iraq the other day. I nearly fell off my stool. 'Bloody hell', I said, 'I had no idea that they made wine in Iraq.' I said that I'd tasted wine in Tunisia (not quite the same - Ed) but I was surprised that an Islamist state such as Iraq allowed wine to be produced.

As I ranted on (bearing in mind that we'd had a few by then) Alain looked really puzzled and then the penny finally dropped. He said, 'I'm not talking about Iraq but Lirac.'

And thanks to you

Here's one for Barbara in North Carolina.

Hire that man

Girls - the perfect stocking filler for your man

Click on the picture to see more detail.

Minnie

For a couple of weeks now Minnie's breath has been smelling really bad. I mean really bad, worse than mine after a night on the curry. (We get the message - Ed) This morning we had an appointment at the vet for her annual injections and mentioned the symptoms. After a lot of difficulty, the vet took a look in her mouth and said 'there's the problem.' Stuck across the roof of her mouth, between two rear teeth, was a piece of wood which blended in perfectly with the surroundings and which had caused an open wound the width of her palate. The poor thing.