What do monkeys eat?

Oink, it is Monday morning and I am finding it very hard to walk up the stairs out of Victoria Underground Station. Why is this? Tick tick tick think think think. Did I put my legs on? Quick check, yes my tights are there so I must have put my legs on. Tick tick tick think think think. Did I have tensor fascia lata removing surgery on the weekend? Hmm, no, impossible, I do not have private healthcare. Tick tick tick think think think. Oh dear, food, more food, food. I spent the weekend eating food. Too much food. All weekend. Food. I was unstoppable. I thought I was a monkey. Maybe I am a pig. Confusion. I will phone Counsellor……..

Counsellor asked me if I enjoyed my weekend of eating. I said very much so. He asked what the highlights were, I list:

Saturday afternoon – half a pint of Guinness. This is the first Guinness I have enjoyed.

Saturday evening – Salted crocodile croquette, caramelised plantain and chilli jam, ginger and lemongrass tiger prawns with cucumber sushi, .roasted lamb ramp with chick peas and carrot mash, babaganush and sour cream, a taste of springbok steak with sweet potato, parma ham and feta involtini, espresso poured on vanilla ice cream, wine, port, a taste of Drambuie and lager.

Sunday – full pork roast dinner and lager

Counsellor agreed that what I had eaten sounded excessive and that I probably had more characteristics of a pig than a monkey. But, if I enjoyed myself it didn’t matter whether I was a pig or a monkey. Furthermore, Counsellor told me that if I intended to do this again it would be more socially acceptable for a pig than a monkey. I thanked Counsellor and put the phone down feeling 100 per cent proud pig. I immediately wrote a thank you letter to Counsellor and stuffed his favourite truffles inside.

I used the lift to reach my office.

Restaurant recommendation: Cinnamon Cay on Lavender Hill