I DO us a tasty stew thing as my experimental cook this week – a mix of chicken thighs, sweet corn and broad beans, all slow-cooked together in a tomato sauce.
And it’s such a relief to be back in good appetite again, for both My Good Lady and myself… our stomach complaints have finally abated.
Meanwhile MGL and I have been making little trips out in the car to see how well I can cope with the driving.
Since my stroke last year, it’s been something of a chore for me to go any distance – some of the deadness in my leg returns.
Anyhow, today we do the weekly shop and then, since it’s such a bright afternoon, we go off into the countryside around us, and pay a visit to the village of Silverdale, a place we know very well indeed; the hotel, there, was at one time one of our favourite dining spots.
Oh, it’s all changed of course – under new management, revamped and, to me, running to seed a bit, but still pleasantly familiar nonetheless: plus ça change and all that.
It’s a far cry from its glory days, though, when the hotel’s telephone number was “Silverdale 3” and when excursion steamers used to moor there for afternoon tea.
Back in those days the grounds extended down to Morecambe Bay, with fine, manicured lawns, beautifully laid-out gardens, and where guests could avail themselves of the tennis courts and the bowling greens.
Then the deep-water channel of the River Kent shifted and the hotel – indeed the whole village – was left high and dry, marooned as it were on an expanse of sand.
Most of the land was sold off for redevelopment and the village now has the sleepy air of a dormer backwater.
It’s still got a certain charm though and I can well remember our first excitement, when, as newlyweds, we lived in a damp, draughty cottage at nearby Crag Foot, and we used to explore this Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty.
Happy memories!