Fancy a Pommes Neuf dahlink?

'Where the bloody hell have you been?' I hear you cry.

I know, I'm sorry, and you will be pleased to hear that as punishment, I have been self-flagellating with a twig I found down the bottom of the garden.

It all started going wrong last week, when if you can remember, I had to make a trip to London on Wednesday to try and fix a washing machine that preferred to eject water onto the floor rather than wash clothes with it. Essentially I lost a day, but still had the same amount of stuff to do, so everything was squeezed. It was a bit like vacuum-packing a sleeping bag.

After my unsuccessful jaunt to London, I had another trip out to fit in. On Thursday evening at 6.30pm, I had arranged to meet a friend in Cookham, Berkshire, for dinner. Cookham being, of course, just outside London. Things went swimmingly and I arrived at our rendezvous only ten minutes late, to find ......... that my friend wasn't there.I received a panicky text saying that he was stuck in traffic and was running 30 minutes late.

But for three things, that normally wouldn't have been a problem. Only this time; (1) I had no iPhone to keep me entertained because I accidentally dropped it down the toilet a couple of weeks ago, (2) it was hot. I mean 29c (84F) hot; and (3) I had no air conditioning in my shed car.

So, by the time my friend arrived, my hair had gone lank, and my make up had slid down my face. Bummer.

"You look hot," said my friend as he got out of his car, and somehow I knew he didn't mean 'hot'.

We had decided to eat at a 14th Century inn called 'Bel and the Dragon' because the food was supposed to be half decent.

Pic.No.1.  The outide of Bel and the Dragon

Once inside, I started to cool down a bit, and I took in my surroundings. It looked like a good choice. The place was brimming with original features, and the dining area was spacious and atmospheric. However, because it was so sunshiney outside, we decided to eat in the garden, with me tucked under the shade of an umbrella.

If you are getting the impression that I don't take well to being hit by direct sunlight, you are correct. In fact, some of my nicer friends have given me the nickname 'Stilton' beause I am white with blue veins. Even my own father refers to my skin tone as a 'cadaveric pallour'. 

Pic.No.2. The bar area of Bel and the Dragon

Anyway, I digress. After studying the menu, I decided to order fish and 'pommes neuf'.

"What the bloody hell are pommes neuf?" asked my friend.

"Dunno," I replied, "I think it's French. Doesn't pomme mean potato? And I think neuf is the number nine."

"Doesn't sound right to me," he said, and I had to agree that it was tenuous.

We chatted whilst waiting for the food, and I couldn't help but notice the state of the tables and chairs in the garden. The varnish was peeling off them all in big rough flakes. It was downright shabby, and I must admit, that being a bit of perfectionist, I found the lack of attention to detail a little irritating.

Come on people! Sort out your furniture! No one wants flakes of varnish garnishing their fish.

Pic.No.3. The view from the window of Bel and the Dragon

Talking of fish, mine arrived, and the Pommes Neuf issue became clear; there were nine square chips stacked up like the Jenga game on my plate.

"Bloody hell," I laughed when I saw it, "it's just a posh word for nine chips! How pretentious is that?"

Unfortunately, being distracted by the humour of the situation, I forgot to take a picture of the posh chips, but I did find a picture on the internet that gives you an idea of what they looked like.

Pic.No.4 Nice chips mate! Actually they are Pommes Neuf Dahlink

So would I recommend Bel and the Dragon? Yes I would. The menu was interesting, the food was good, and it is situated right next to the River Thames and some stunning walks.

It was just the varnish on the bloody tables that let them down. Go and buy some Ronseal!