Look at these beautiful glossy Lemon Sole…. you can always tell a fabulously fresh fish by the slime…which sounds terrible but is really true.
This March has yielded a few really sunny days and although cold, bitingly so at times, there is nothing like tipping your face toward the sun after a long British winter.
So, off we went for an afternoon on the coast, a really good bracing walk along the beach, snack in the mighty fine Old Neptune Pub.
It came to pass that we spent a few days in Yorkshire this past week. In Wensleydale, to be precise, having been invited along by Rocket’s brother Slippers and our sister-in-law Tigger.
They are regulars, it turns out, at a welcoming hotel in The Dales, that hosts a twice yearly malt whiskey tasting. With Rocket (and his bro) being very big fans of the golden liquor they were happy to partake whilst Tigger and I sat happily ensconced with a glass or two of our own particular poison… officiando’s of the Malt we are not. Continue reading A Dram of Yorkshire
In Search of the Catfish Café... 