If you did, that was me falling off the wagon last night. I'd been invited to the annual Caballeros dinner – one of those wine trade events where people get inducted into an association while wearing voluminous robes and funny hats (see left).I didn't get to wear any robes myself (thank god, scarlet velvet has never really been my thing), but I was subjected to a four-hour-long onslaught of good food and Spanish wine. I've been working hard recently, and I'm tired, so my willpower wasn't quite what it should have been. So I sipped at my cava, swigged my glass of manzanilla, took a slug or two of the Sauvignon Blanc and the Albarinho that went with a starter of sea bass and rice with prawns, peas and ham, and drank slightly less of the two reds that went with the fillet of beef with wild mushrooms and foie gras (I managed to restrain myself and only had a small slice of the foie gras).
I hardly touched the Rioja that accompanied the cheese platter (although I did nibble at the dried fruit on the plate). It all fell apart, though, when I was poured a glass of PX sherry (a very sweet, almost treacly dessert sherry) and handed a plate with a sticky toffee and date pudding. In mitigation, I will say that it was a very small pudding, and I didn't eat the ice cream that went with it, nor did I finish my glass of PX. But I did get a bit of a sugar rush afterwards – and a lingering sense of guilt this morning.
No comments:
Post a Comment