Nice Bit of Crumpet

No, no, I'm not describing myself, new hair and loss of a few pounds notwithstanding. I'm paying deserved homage to a highlight of my now-ended sojourn, which wasn't bad at all despite my unfortunately missing one of the key scheduled events due to unscheduled illness. Sadly, it appears I'll have to wait until next lifetime to witness a Hog Roast wedding reception.

So, moving swiftly on to Crumpets. (I've no idea what Americans call them. Describing them to Israelis proved so difficult that I gave up after 5 minutes) So, this trip back, they took on a whole new significance. I'd sporadically enjoyed them here and there in the past in an "illegal" capacity, but just in time for my arrival on British Soil, the lovely Sephardi Bet Din prescribed all these products as Kosher. A move which had happily transformed the home of the Parrot Parents into a veritable Crumpet Warehouse: never before has a baked good attained such status chez Parrot. For breakfast dinner and tea, those once-craved Quavers and Cadbury's with Crunchie Pieces lay forgotten. As did the diet. This may seem improbable and ridiculous to some, but as one of my surrogate grandmas who left England 25 years ago for crumpet-less Israel surmised when I informed her of this gastronomical development, "Well, that's fatal."

The glorious Liverpool homecoming following an exhilarating win? Bonding with my gorgeous nieces? Being treated to "Renee Zellweger's favourite facial" in Primrose Hill (having Green & Blacks 70% smeared all over)? Gratis designer hairdressing? It is possibly a little worrying to admit that I'll take a six-hourly dose of toasted crumpets dripping with Country Life in my Parents' garden over such fabulousness. Move over, Alan Rickman, and let the slavering-from-a-distance begin.