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Your e-Mails

Chris Parker
Nicey replies: Very good, but it was me me who made the pie, and the custard for that matter. I always do pastry leaves as the younger members of staff like them especially when its sweet pastry. Very pleased to hear that at least one person has the custard picture as their wall paper, as I took that too. And yes I think it was me who ate that bit of pie, so it wasn't an entirely altruistic project.

James Chambers

Jacob's Mikado Review
Nicey replies: Hello James,

Glad to hear you are enjoying the book. I received reciprocal strange looks from Wifey after I wrote the bit about Hansel and Gretle, and she hasn't started any proceedings yet so I expect you're relatively safe.

Anyhow Mikados, yes they are meant to be that way. Although I already knew that it was an epiphanic moment on tea tour in Ireland two summers ago when an advert for the revered trinity (Kimberly, Mikado and Coconut Cream) came on the telly. Not only was it comforting to see a biscuit advert, but it positively promoted their 'soft' biscuits, talking up the advantages none of which I can recall as I was too excited. I think they even played the jingle at the end too. It was quite an special moment a bit like seeing a rare creature in its native habitat, not that they are rare.

Jonny Cowbells
CakeThe FrenchTea
Nicey replies: As I too have endured many a cup of Liptons tea a mere mountain away from you I have some empathy for your wretched plight. Mind you living in the middle of Espace Killy and looking like the season could make it through to the start of May this year tempers my anguish somewhat.

Still well done to Mrs Cowbells for her resourceful baking. I have to say I do like the whole high altitude baking thing in ski resorts even if much of it is enforced on chalet maids.

Spikey Mikey

KitKat Review

David Blaxill
The French

Bastogne Review
Nicey replies: Ahh I'm only familiar with the Auchan biscuit aisle at Boulogne. As soon as the tyres touch down in Calais I am filled with the urge to leave the place and head south, even if it is only for twenty minutes. We too like a spot of the old pic-nic when in France. There is also good sport to be had worrying the French by eating at times that are out of sync with them due to the hour time difference and being through a casual British approach to lunch time based on feeling peckish rather than some national time signal. Often as we have sat on a camp chair in some French lay by at quarter past two in the afternoon chewing on a bit of sauciseson whilst disembowelling an over ripe melon with spoon, we have received shocked glances from the occupants of a passing Renault or Citreon.

Once when camping in deepest darkest France we began about lunch at almost 1:30 and finished at around 3:00. One of the other French campers who we had gotten to know quite well came across to see if we were all right. He had been fretting that one of us had been taken ill, or that we had been involved in a road accident. He had to employ some very seldom used French expression that may have been "Vous mangez en decolarge?" or something like that. Despite two of our party being fluent French speakers and both having lived in France for at least a year each neither had heard this, which they best translated as "eating out of time". We were all quietly pleased with ourselves for creating such an air of tension just through shear applied Britishness.