I had just enjoyed my usual morning two slices of toast - home-made white loaf smothered with home-made blackberry and apple jelly, when Slim pinged me an e-mail asking if I'd read Nigel Slater's toast, which apparently has a scene set in Shifnal.
Such synchronicity highlighted an unfairly overlooked object of praise, considering breakfast is such a high point of my home-shirking life, and so I'll just get my praise of toast in under the wire.
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About Me
- Gary
- In my twenties I was a failed poet. In my thirties I wrote a book on gambling which was very nearly published. In my forties I wrote a small book about moving from London to Shropshire, which remains unpublished. Into my fifties and the quest continues...
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