Hot Stuff

So you see it's been two days now since the Summer Solstice, and aren't those nights drawing in, eh? I told you so. I had a bit of a crazy night recently when I had intended that my head would stay intact but as usual, I ended up filling my body with impure substances so that (again, as usual) I lost control of my senses. You'd think I'd know better at my age. This would be funny if it weren't for that fact that I'm sure it's all ruinous for my health.

I've been eating some Pimientos de Padrón today – commonly known as Padron peppers. Anyone who has eaten tapas in Spain will know them – they're little green peppers about two inches long which are roasted (or possibly fried?) in rock salt and sometimes garlic. They're delicious as an aperitif with a long cold beer or a nice glass of chilled white wine. For some reason that I've never been able to establish, only some of them are hot (as in spicy, peppery hot). It's impossible to tell which ones will burn your palate so eating them is bit like Russian Roulette – sometimes you can go through a whole plate full, shared with a couple of friends, and never find the bullet in the chamber. Sometimes you seem to get three in a row and then you have to reach for the white wine or beer, quickly. In truth though, they should be eaten in the sunshine at some terrace bar in Spain - with friends. Eating them alone, in a Nottingham city centre flat whilst pigeons beat at the windows, isn't quite the same.

But then lots of things aren't the same when you take them out of context. Look at holiday romances (not that I've ever had one). I've known plenty of people who have met the man or woman who will supposedly answer their desperate prayers whilst holidaying, only to discover that Dolores or Ramón or Jean-Claude or Vitály turn out to be disappointingly like Darren who works in the chip shop, or Sharon from the cake stall, when they get home and meet up again. People often confuse setting and romance with love. Setting and romance certainly exist as a temporary condition – there's no denying it. Enduring love is however (in my experience) unsustainable.

All love is a chimera. That might even be the title of my next novel.