Art, music, whatever
Whilst wandering around and getting lost in the Dark Forests of Internet Car-Dorkery, I stumbled on this vision, the Maserati A6/54 2000 Zagato Spyder:
It’s not too horrible from the rear, either:
And its interior is blissfully simple and devoid of modern geegaws, like airbags and seatbelts.
It was made in 1955, and even if you were to win the biggest lottery around, good luck finding it. “It?”
They made one. One.
With all the Christmas excitement and such, I forgot to mention that Carol Vorderman turned 60 last week.
And a flashback to her 50th:
Yer welcome.
As I may have said before, we don’t have Christmas Dinner on Christmas Day itself: Christmas Day is devoted to a Full English Breakfast with the kids (this was ours yesterday; bangers, beans, back bacon, mushrooms. eggs and tomato all fried in boerewors drippings and hash browns, also — not pictured — French bread toast, and cinnamon rolls made by Daughter)
I should point out that this was my plate: the others had portions essentially double that of mine, because I can’t take that much because of gastric surgery. I made up for it by drinking more Mimosas than everyone else.
We save the roast beef dinner till the day after Christmas: Boxing Day (a Du Toit family tradition):
I cook the roast, New Wife does the potatoes, parsnips, asparagus and other veg., and Daughter makes the Yorkshire pud. Dessert is generally peach cobbler and / or fruit cake with icing, but this year there’s a Yule Log like this one, compliments of Daughter.
Mostly because nobody in our family can handle a Full English and Roast Beast on a single day, we’ve turned Christmas Day into a two-day family affair. In American terms, it’s like having two Thanksgiving meals in a row.
We like it that way.
Seen SOTI:
“You’ve got to understand that Farrah [Fawcett] was larger than life in 1980. Not in a forced-manufactured Lady Gaga kind of way, but in a genuine ‘Good Lord, Farrah makes me sweat profusely!’ kind of way.”
Yup.
Forget for a moment that we’re mostly all Old Married Pharttes, and imagine that you’re going to be in lockdown with a hottie — to be more specific, a hottie chef, because regardless of how hot she is, at some point you’re gonna have to eat, and you don’t want to be stuck in that situation with Jennifer Aniston, who can’t boil a lettuce.
So here are the contenders, in no specific order:
Nigella Lawson
Rachel Allen
Rachel Khoo
Giada De Laurentiis
Lisa Faulkner
Marcella Valladolid 
Rachel Ray
Ingrid Hoffmann 
Cat Cora
Okay, Cat Cora is probably disqualified because sadly, she’s a lesbianist. In her place, therefore:
Mary Berg
(That’s for my Canucki Readers…)
As an aside, three of the above are named Rachel. Coincidence? I think not.
And for my long-suffering Lady Readers, who are always being left out of these things:
Curtis Stone
(I know, Australian therefore should be disqualified. Shuddup or I’ll add Guy Fieri.)
James Martin
Jean-Christophe Novelli
Phil Vickery
And in the interests of good taste and such, I haven’t bothered with Gordon Ramsay, because I would refuse to pay your hearing-aid bills after you’ve been in a three-week lockdown with him.
Feel free to add your favorite chefs in Comments.
I know we just looked at Kelly Brook yesterday, but I’m so weak:
Go on, shout at me in Comments. You know you want to.