Alison's Diary

Nov 2 2008

MONDAY

God, it's cold. Drive up to the Lake of Menteith Hotel with my mum as we are going to Nick Nairn's cookery school tomorrow. Pals told us there is wine involved and not to drive after the course so we're taking their advice seriously.

Having arrived with wild, windy rain battering us, we check in. We sit in the lounge, drink coffee and look out on the lake. There are 12 boats with 24 daft fishermen being soaked and blown around like rubber ducks. We laugh at them as we enjoy the roaring fire.

We eat in the hotel and have an early night in anticipation of tomorrow's foodie extravaganza. Hotel manager Jean hears we're off to the cook school and kindly offers to drive us there so we'll be ready by 10am.

TUESDAY

The school is a great set-up - a purposebuilt, spacious, modern room where you each get your own kitchen area to work in a la Masterchef. First we sit watching tutor John show us what to do - an informal posh dinner party - and after each demo we get on with it.

My mum Joy learns how to poach an egg after 65 years. You can see by the photo, left, she is over the moon.

It is part of the starter of roasted smoked haddock, green beans and truffle potato topped by the perfect egg.

We have a real laugh with our new pal Fiona in the adjoining kitchen. In fact, we were the first in and are the last out, still swigging wine after everyone else has gone. By the end of the day we have eaten everything we've cooked and drank our body weight in wine.

WEDNESDAY

Poor Fiona's husband was hijacked by us to take us back to the hotel. He had spent the day exploring the area as we and his wife led each other astray.

We sit quietly at breakfast as manager Jean goes out to feed Cheeky Chops the swan. We gulp down fresh air after our breakfast before heading home. This time last year I was in Callander with the girls and bought a pair of boots which I have worn to death.

It's not far from the hotel so we take a wee detour on the way to pop into the same shop and find the exact same pair for £30. Well pleased, we retire to Deli Ecosse to have a bowl of lovely homemade soup.

It's haddock and poached eggs for Dave and Louis tonight - and every night from now on.

THURSDAY

It's the annual enrol-in-a-gym week. Flabtastic is the only way to describe the love handles hanging over my trouser top. I try on a dress which used to fit loosely but is now liable to cut off my circulation altogether. Not amused, I take the plunge and get in tow with trainer PK who agrees to take on the challenge of finding a muscle in my body. Good luck to her - she'll need it.

Changing afterwards, I see a girl with strange red circles on her back. When she sees me looking at her, she explains that she has been to a new Thai Therapy Clinic in Embra where they do cupping, right.

"Tea?" I ask.

No, it gets rid of aches and toxins - as long as you don't need to wear a backless dress.

FRIDAY

On the phone to pal Tracy when there is an almighty clatter at her end.

She screeches - her dog Lola, below, has just drank and upended a big pan of carrot and butterbean soup they were meant to have for supper with friends tonight.

"We'll have to cancel," she moans.

"But you can make more," I tell her.

She replies: "No, it's not that. The dog will be farting like a dray horse - I can't have people in the house."

Off to pal John Wood's 85th birthday - no, that is not a misprint. The saxophoneplaying sweetie pie is on great form as friends and family gather to raise a glass to his big day.

There is a huge spread of shepherd's pie which I have a wee plate of. It is so good I go back for another and, before I know it, I am having a third. Late night with a few bevs - great fun.

SATURDAY

Can I recommend half a hundred-weight of shepherd's pie as a hangover cure? I feel great.

Wild, windy, horrible day. Louis and his pals have arranged to practise rugby in the park. It's about 4C and blowing a gale but they ignore my warning they will get hypothermia.

Half an hour later I get a call from a shivery wee voice: "H...h...hello m...m...mum, it's L...L...Louis here, I'm f...f... freezing. Any chance of a l...l...lift?" Soft touch, I zap off to get him and a hot bath later his blue tinge has returned to pink. I don't need to say I told you so because I can tell by the look on his defrosted face he won't be doing that again in a hurry.

X Factor night in with homemade curry - perfect.