Its always best to travel light...

Though I'm no photographer I've come to the conclusion that in certain locations its pretty difficult to take a bad photo.

A fine brew

'View through the window of the Shitmobile'

In contrast to previous form,Chef managed to pack our stuff in an actual suitcase.
Though admittedly, his reputation was rapidly restored with the revelation that his our toiletries were handily contained within a knotted doggy poop bag.
'Dont worry, its clean..'
Sigh.
Chef likes to travel light.
A three day break will typically involve minimal packing with sufficent clothing for the three days only and little deviation.
As in his work life every detail meticulously planned with no margin for error.
As we arrived at our first port of call I realised the freshly ironed shirts designated for evening wear remained conveniently hanging on the back of the bedroom door at home.
Being a casual kind of a guy, a flicker of delight flashed across Chefs face as he realised he might well have been gifted an unexpected reprieve and may indeed be dining out for the duration in favourite attire: t shirt and jeans.
Later that night we encountered our second wardrobe fail.
Id forgotten to pack my PJs.
'I'll just borrow one of your t shirts' I say.
Chef frowned,'But that's going to leave me one day short..'
'Its OK' I say 'we can buy you a couple of t shirts tomorrow...'

If you fancy a bit of clothes shopping,DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT go to Skye.
Please note,there are no shops on Skye selling regular clothing.
Things were getting desperate when on the final day and just prior to a nice meal out,and worryingly with Chef still no suitable and clean top to wear, we chanced on the Talisker distillery shop.

Lifesaver

Amidst the wonderful range of malt whisky were (joy of joys) a selection of t shirts...

That evening as we sat troughing our very nice meal and sipping a nice crisp Riesling which paired perfectly with the langoustines,I complimented Chef on his new smart attire.
 Glancing around furtively, then down at his discreetly branded frontage Chef was unconvinced.
'I look like an American tourist..'
Much later as we knocked back our post prandial Sammy B's( and aided in no small part by the unusual availability of chefs favourite brew), the mood had lightened somewhat.

 'They probably think we've won this in a competition' said Chef...
Snigger.
'One more for the road??'
Why not.

Brown soggy chips are the way forward..

We've had a bit of an issue with chips this week. To be honest they've been a bit ..well...brown,soggy and slightly sweet tasting.
Its to do with the spuds having a high sugar/starch content this time of year,resulting in the offending sweet tasting, brown flaccid specimen..

Brown chip fest

Chef was not best pleased.By Friday he was onto the fifth potato variety in an effort to produce his usual golden crisp product.
Come Saturday lunchtime his frustrations came to the fore.
'Do you know what? Id rather have a decent frozen chip than those b**tards'
'I'm surprised no ones complained' I say,supportively..
I was wincing visibly every time I delivered a plateful of the evil bleepers,steeling myself for the complaint which must surely come soon,but over the lunchtime period we actually had the chips complemented on several occasions,one punter even going so far as to say they were 'just like his dear old mother used to make'.
Due to the clement weather we were rammed all day.
At teatime,a bus-load of tourists arrived.Surprisingly they were accompanied by a bouncer who looked remarkably like the genial Harry Grout.
Southerners.
 I suspected they may have been cockneys,though admittedly I have no evidence to support this.

Chef peered through the kitchen door 'yes... definitely Southerners...you can tell by their cream crumpled slacks, flip flops and St Tropez glow'
Obviously that's not a sweeping generalisation.
Southerners have a completely different demeanour to your average Northerner.Dare I say they come across as cocky and perhaps slightly arrogant?
You see, your average Northumbrian punter will request a drink in the following fashion:
'Can I have a Pint of Amstel please'(actually they didn't request Amstel but that's what they got due to the absence of their chosen bev).
Whereas the Southern drinks order is a tad more presumptuous:
'Amstel-for-me'
Note the absence of the usual  PLEASE OR THANKYOU.
Momentarily I was slightly taken aback.
Conversely,every round I served, each of them offered me a drink and looked slightly surprised when I refused.
I think the offer of the drink is the thankyou.They were actually an amiable bunch after all.
I digress,after they'd eaten,a couple of the group called me over and enthused over the sub standard chips saying they were the best they'd ever eaten and they wished I'd come along and do the catering on their tour.
I was reiterating the conversation to Chef as Blonde Waitress burst into the kitchen,breathless and panting,the suggestion of a faint perspiration moustache apparent on her upper lip.
'Do you know who the guy at the bar is?'
'No'we say in unison.
'Its Alex Reid'
'Alex who???'We say in unison..
'He used to be married to Jordan..you know Katie Price??'
'Oh'Says chef disinterestedly... 'Who hasn't been married to Jordan?'
'No'Says the Blonde 'He's actually *pure* famous,I mean he's in Closer EVERY WEEK'
'Actually,I need to socialise more here on my days off, that's the fourth s'leb we've had in today..'
'I give up' ...said Chef.
Please don't start getting excited.
The other three were Z listers,actually they were less than Z.Yes, their s'leb ranking was quite possibly into negative equity.

As the night progressed the chip issue raised its head once more when a stray drinker wandered unfettered over to one of the dining tables and nicked a chip off someone's plate.
Well.
Yours truly had to have a word.
Unbelievably the culprits' justification for this disgraceful behaviour was that her partner had been telling her how delicious our chips were and she couldn't resist trying one.
'Here's a novel concept' I say 'why not consider ORDERING a portion then you can sit down and EAT them.....'

Toward the end of the night we were all flagging a bit.
Self:Can you get the lady on table 3 a Kir  please?
Blonde:An IKEA??
Self: No A KIR
Blonde:Whats that?
Self:You know,a Kir..a white wine with cassis.
Blonde:A white wine with SEASONING??
Self:Its ok,Ill do it..


In other news,the box of new whites I'd ordered for Chef arrived this week.
The web site of usual company we order from was down so I tried a new supplier.
Chef doesn't like change.
Anyhoo,just as I was about to click the order through I happened to notice a Chefs jacket in the bargain bucket.On the photo it looked exactly like your usual Chefs jacket..so I ordered FIVE..
However,when the jackets arrived all was not jolly.
From the front Chef looked ...well...like a Chef.
Reader,if you can remember the Kenny Everett character Angry of Mayfair,then you're on the right lines...

Angry of Mayfair

The whole of the back section of the jacket was comprised of a criss cross gauze creating a fetching string vest effect...

My popularity may be at an all time low, but I had a little chuckle to myself as I recalled the modesty of the catalogue description 'cooling lightweight jacket'..
I'm getting used to having Rab C Nesbitt around the kitchen.

Its going to be a long summer... however I do believe that brown soggy chips are the way forward.