Monday, February 20, 2012

sunlight ultimate fish

Posted by Picasa Sunlight and shadow on the half landing of the staircase in  our house where there is plenty of light through the day.

In the new Tunbridge Wells Hospital which some have compared favourably with an airport building a Costa Coffee shop provides a welcoming focus at the back of the light and spacious lobby. For a hospital where there is always a nagging worry about outcomes, the choice of menu promotion boldly advertised provides food for thought:  "The Ultimate Bacon Breakfast Roll" .

It is 20 years since I retired from active journalism and editing. Yet faithful to the last, some PR agencies still have me on their mailing lists. Such loyalty is rare. Though I am unlikely to attend or draw attention to its annual revival at the end of June, I like to know that Pembrokeshire Fish Week is still alive.  "...New this year," I am informed, "is the chance to learn about Indian Fish cookery from acclaimed Kerala born cookery star Anand George, founder of Cardiff's New Purple Poppadom". I wish I lived nearer Cardiff because whenever I have tasted Kerala food I have never failed to be impressed.


Roderick Robinson said...

What would constitute the ultimate fish? My father - a dry-fly angler - used to say that the brown trout was, ounce for ounce, the sportiest, fightingest fish; extrapolated to the same weight it would out-struggle a tarpon or a sail-fish. But that's a comparison that means little to most of us. A brown trout that tasted of turbot would be homing in on another kind of ultimacy.

Snorkelling off the Brittany coast I came upon a fish a mere 10 cm long that appeared to be guarding entry to a small rock cave and which stared at me aggressively. Despite a 500 to 1 disparity in body weight I felt briefly threatened. Another ultimate fish, then.

Unknown said...

While no militant in defence of animals I cannot understand what sport there is in catching fish - other than to be eaten. Sport for me always implies a balance of skills and the voluntary involvement of all participants. I know that in the old days, big game hunting was referred to as a sport! Sorry Papa Hemmingway. Sorry too, Papa da Ponte!