Veni, vidi, vici, viney!

I DO NOT object, per-se, to having fresh fish for Christmas Lunch - a few years ago that is what my Italian relatives entertained me to (smoked salmon and salt-caked baked sea bass), whilst roaring Genoese waves reared their white horse manes angrily against an almost inadvertantly floating restaurant terrace just about enclosed.

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I have decided that my future lies in putting words to communicating the sensual pleasures proffered by food and drink and circumstance surrounding those 'essences'. To be perfectly honest, my present is concerned with just that anyway, but a rising tide of determination which clicks dreams into reality and which previously led to two of my obscure documentary films being broadcast on the BBC will I hope help ensure my 2007 resolution begins to glimmer within a patter of months. If it hasn't shown signs of happening by this time next year, my duty at least to begin to rendering extinct arrogant fattened critical wrecks, particulary in the wine trade (let's call these wantons 'Cholestoralasaurus' with moving jaws) feel free to bamboo-shoot me!