The Duloe-Looe duo separated from their rambling companions in order to make our rendezvous by the Millbrook lakeside and we trogged together into the centre of the village to try and find food at The D&C; sadly Russell and Mark weren't performing their kitchen magic on a Wednesday lunchtime, so we piled into Harry's new motor (an "old man's car", he calls it because it's an automatic) and pootled at a sedate old man's pace to Kingsand and its excellent watering hole The Rising Sun.Pleasingly, the legendary "bullshit corner" table was free as we stumbled in through the front door, so we quickly laid claim to it for the duration of lunchtime. Before I could say "Jack Robinson" a pint of lovely Heligan Honey was plonked in front of me and menu perusal commenced. The Riser is also keeping the delicious Doom Bar and the revolting brown excrescence that is Courage Best on pump at the moment.
I'm meant to be being good at the moment, but I'm rubbish at following dietary restrictions in public houses, so I plumped for the perennial pub-grub favourite of gammon steak and chips (oops, that's a black mark in the waist-reduction book). Rosemary was almost equally naughty with ham, eggs (note the plural) and chips; Harry went for The Riser's legendary fish and seafood soup (outstanding value at under six quid - a full meal in its own right); Mrs The Millbrooker went for the home made prawn curry.
Here are the women folk tucking in. I seem to have succeeded in taking an unflattering shot of both of them. That's another "oops", then.And for Harry fans everywhere, here's the legendary Looe fisherman indulging in eating a few of his favourite things.Munchings and slurpings completed, Rosemary very generously picked up the tab (we'll allow her to call around again, I think). We bade the westerly dwelling pair farewell outside the pub because Mrs The Millbrooker and I were planning to walk home to try and burn off a chip or two's worth of greedily ingested calories.
We did walk home, but the pace was remarkably sedate because we found lots and lots of blackberries just begging to become food-for-free (or, more accurately, wine-for-almost-free). Mrs The Millbrooker had regained charge of the camera and captured the event of yours truly gathering the countryside's bounty on the pathway towards Maker.Huge thanks, of course, to Rosemary for sponsoring my gluttony and Mrs The Millbrooker's nibblings and "cheers" to Harry for assuaging my guilt at slurping more than my fair share of ale by joining in and having a second glass to match mine.
Now - where did I put that blackberry wine recipe?