The search is over. The people have spoken and a new star is born for Glamis Prom 2018.
Sisters, it would appear, are doing it for themselves. Or at least, taking a leaf out of the men’s somewhat naughty book and getting all lascivious (or las-vicious, as I once heard it described) about the physical attributes of attractive young men (ie ogling the shirt off Poldark’s Aidan Turner who has once more got his pecs out for the ladies).
We missed National Cat Day in our house last week (August 8, for those of you who want to get it into next year’s diary) for the same reason that National Gin Day passed me by.
I don’t normally watch a lot of telly, apart from James Martin and NCIS (ALL the repeats with Ziva and Tony in them) but I have found myself fairly glued to the old gogglebox over the past few weeks.
Being deeply unfestive by nature, you don’t tend to get much in the way of jolly frivolity from me as the nights fair dra’ in and the end-of-year report inevitably looms.
Gleneagles Hotel and its reputation for luxury and high standards casts a long shadow over the surrounding area of Perthshire and has also been a wonderful starting point for many who have gone on to make their mark in the hospitality industry all over the world.
The East Pier Smokehouse does what it says on the tin. It’s a haven for the best of locally caught fish and seafood. There’s also a guiding ethos that if it’s edible, they can smoke it. And in this little shop and eatery perched on the edge of the water, they do just that, often to terrific effect.
Porridge, as a friend of mine once memorably remarked, is a very personal thing. It’s like stovies, in ways that surpass either of them being simply Scottish-based foods with a reputation for stodginess and much cheapness. They also possess the ability to evoke in otherwise sensible people opinions on style of presentation and combination of ingredients as diverse and venomous as those currently expressed chiefly by EU referendum campaigners and Euro 2016 football “fans”.
Well, I warned you last week. Don’t say I didn’t. It was in The Courier, so it must be true.