The Medieval Lunch

I must apologise for the tardiness of this post, which should have been a Friday delivery but is, in fact, winging its way to you on a Monday. I have been in Ibiza. If this is summoning up images of me standing on a podium in a sequinned minidress, gurning at a non-existent companion whilst grasping a bottle of Evian then immediately banish those images: my Ibiza was not that kind of Ibiza.

It was a very sophisticated, in-bed-by-ten-with-a-cup-of-sleepy-tea visit to Ibiza. Soaking up the warmth, eating extortionately-priced tapas and generally allowing my mind and body to have a little post-book-publication reset.

I explain all of this because I don’t want you to think I forgot the Friday post due to some sort of hedonistic personal chaos: I didn’t forget it at all! It was all written up and ready to go, but I left my laptop at home thinking I’d be able to easily publish the post from my Substack app. Alas, there wasn’t an easy way to publish at all (unless I was being totally dense) and so I do apologise for the full three days that you’ve had to wait on tenterhooks, wondering whether your post would ever arrive.

Here it is. Cue trumpet fanfare. I wish it was something altogether more spectacular - one of these ultra-personal “tell all” missives that seem to be all the rage, where I admit that I’ve always been jealous of my second cousin or that I can only orgasm whilst wearing green socks - but it’s not. It’s a post that is mostly about pre-cooked mackerel. Let’s do it.

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