Tag Archives: Italian

Mother and the addict(s)

Hello. I’m Famale. I’m addicted to basil. It’s true. I just can’t get enough, just can’t get enough. My Italian family had rows and rows of basil which grew outside with very little attention, apart from the dog and the … Continue reading

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Convention rights

The rules on Italian pesto should be laid down in the European Convention on Human Rights. In fact, I’m surprised they’re not. My experience of pesto pre-Italy was when we discovered it as first year art students and put it … Continue reading

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Old fashioned

My tall, dark and handsome* friend Don and I went out for dinner to Sarti on Wellington Street last night. He had a delicious steak that came with veg and mash, which he left, being a recent (and unnecessarily so) … Continue reading

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Uncomical relief

Lindy made me watch hours and hours of that giraffe woman Miranda and various other unfunny people on Comic Relief last night. Luckily, her parents were away so instead of my lugging down the half-bottle of red that was on … Continue reading

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