Several chums and colleagues all offered various homoepathic-type remedies for my stinking flu. Echinacea and garlic were the most obvious. I have tried these before and found them to be as useless at curing flu as any flu ‘remedy’ bought from the chemists (garlic I love – don’t believe all they say about vamps disliking it – but although it does have healthy properties it doesn’t cure colds). Hot curries and chilli are good for preventing cold anf flus I have always believed and there is now some medical evidence to support this, claiming that the peppers help to ‘burn’ the germs and viruses. Obviously I have not been eating as many curries as I should have been.
Therefore on the way home from a dreadful day at work (I should really have phoned in sick but couldn’t face the hassle this causes) I walked rather than catching the bus to get the blood flowing a little. Not far from my flat is a new bakery/pastry store, The Old Bakehouse, which also has an art gallery in the basement. Delicious pastries and artwork? Now how cool is that? Groovy. Anyway, I nipped into this little Italian-style bakery on the way home and treated myself to a couple of extremely fine pastries, one of which was a cream-filled pastry swan of the lightest choux pastry. It was my hypothesis that this was the homoepathic remedy most suited to my own peculiar physiology. I am uncertain that these luscious pastries actually alleviated my symptoms, but goddam it they made me feel so much better for a little while, administered (for medical reasons) along with several hundred CCs of damned fine coffee (Ariel may suckle at the caffeine teat of the Dr Evil’s Starbucks company but I brew my own, and very good it is too – this month on the Sumatra Blue Lipsong from Whittards; so aromatic, each bean rolled on the thighs of native ladies). Naturally I had to share some of the cakes with Cassie as she is a Cakey Cat and she did the Big Eyes thing until she got some pasty to munch and some of the cream to lick, after which she curled up contentedly against me and purred, all of which didn’t cure my flu but did make me feel so much better.
And fuck it, I wanted those yummy pastries. Okay? Any arguments? Better not be, you should never get between a Celt and his cakes you know. Mmmmmmmm…..cakes…….