This is a general warning to blog-readers who might occasionally indulge in Indian food. Or more precisely, chicken tandoori. I was dicing the chicken and putting it in the tandoori marinade, when the sauce jumped up at me and assaulted me in my own kitchen. Be very very careful when stirring the sauce in the container, for it will jump up at you at the slightest provocation. And having tandoori sauce in one's hair is not the best of fashion statements. It does not go well with navy blue. Quick intervention restored the status quo ante, and subdued the rebellious comestibles to their proper station. They await grilling and eating the fridge.

The offending sauce was Patak's Tandoori Paste (ok, so it's a paste). I blame the designers of the bottle. Perhaps I should sue for the emotional distress this has caused me, and the puzzlement that I had to endure when I originally tried to find the Patak's web site. The container lists the UK web site on the lid and on the label, www.pataks.co.uk. Yet that address does not resolve here. Tsk, tsk. As if making Indian food like this isn't hard enough. I even had to buy yoghurt today to make it, and then measure two tablespoons of it.

Perhaps I should stick to non-culinary blogging.

There are certain expectations about time and place, and deviations from the expected can cause double-takes. I proverbially did the Great Comic Backflip when faced with the physical expression of the Violently Ordinary Rejoinder. One simply does not expect to find crate up crate of Lynch Bages at one's supermarket, now does one?

Sure, it's the relatively uninspiring 1999 vintage, but still. It feels completely out of place in the Albert Heijn. They have lots of wines, but usually not wines of the caliber of a Lynch Bages. It leads me to suspect that the 1999 vintage is even less inspiring than I had thought before. If I remember correctly, they also claim in their information package that the Lynch Bages is almost ready for drinking. A good vintage would have to be kept for at least three more years before drinking. Perhaps even five for optimal results.

There's also the mysterious Chantaloutte from Pomerol. I say mysterious because I can't find any mention of it in my Hachette, which only lists a Chante Aloutte in St. Emilion. But they do claim to have Maucaillou of 1996, which according to Hachette was a splendid year. At $25 a bottle, it could be a good deal. I think I need more wine.