As we head into a new year and the days are slowly beginning to be lighter, new life is busting up from the soil, daffodils are starting to burst into bloom, and its at this time of the year a young man's thoughts and fancies start to turn to other things. After a long cold winter, mine is in the form of making sure that my shoots are of the correct length, or to offer the correct gardening terms, chitting your potatoes. So after you have popped down to your local garden centre and returned with a parcel wrapped in brown paper, the next thing to do is best done on your own and away from prying eyes in a slightly darkened cool room. For those of you that have heard the calling of mother nature at this time of the year, my word of advice  is make sure you rest your tubers gently in egg boxes as these are ideal, and it gives them good support while you wait for chitting to start.
Hang you hard a minute, I think that I have started writing the wrong column, its supposed to be about cookery not the potting shed, you stupid boy Pike. Well what's been happening? Mrs R and yours truly have had a couple of weeks away from the restaurant and spent some time sailing up the Nile. For me I always feel that my holiday starts the minute I feel the engines of the aircraft starting to roar and you are being accelerated down the runway at an incredible speed. Just as I felt the plane surge upwards my thoughts were, for some reason, of my young commis chef who had promised me that he would use his time, as the restaurant was closed, to track down my belated Christmas present. Unfortunately after trying many of the well known high street book shops in December, to no avail, but knowing Dan he will keep trying , the book in question is Fly fishing by J. R. Hartley.
I have to confess I did something this year, on holiday, that I have never ever done on any of our trips before, and that was only because of my daughter brought me one of them for my last birthday. Yes, for the first time ever, I brought along a camera. It's one of these all singing and all dancing contraptions, they say its fool proof. What they don't tell you is that you have to have a degree as a biochemist to understand the instructions just to switch it on. While we were in Egypt a small group of us were offered the chance of seeing the Hotel, the very hotel, where Agatha Christie wrote Death on the Nile. Apparently the old place has not changed after all those years and I half expected to see a little short French man, Hercule Poirot complete with waxed hair suspended beneath his nose, pin striped trousers, and morning coat, walk round the corner and say excuse me, monsieur don't I know you?  

Sailing down the Nile with the warmth of the midday sun on your face after consuming a large breakfast has its attractions. As you lay there soaking up the sun and thinking of the folks back home, the peace and tranquility is broken as you are alerted by a waiter ringing a little bell, yes it's time for lunch. Then within a hour or so its followed by afternoon tea then it seems no time at all before the waiter is ringing the dinner bell, and so it went on each day. So after three days I said that I was only going to have small portions but it was like telling the cat not to drink the cream, until the day came that we boarded the plane to travel home. It's a very unpleasant feeling knowing that you have got at least a five hour flight ahead of you, and at that point your body is trying to tell you something in no uncertain terms that you have been a naughty, naughty boy in the food department, and another thing have you seen the size of the so called toilets on planes? I suppose its the excitement of using them at 29,000 feet over the Alps, suspended within a light film of steel travelling at 500 miles per hour which must add to the attraction, and all I can say to those odd ball persons whose bodies must be made out of rubber that boasts one of those mile high tea shirts is that you are very welcome to it.
Well we are all back at the restaurant and with the pictures from my new camera having been printed, I have for the first time been able to show all my friends and family our trip on the Nile. Yes that's one of the Valley of the Kings, you can if you look hard just see Mrs R. in the background, and oh look that's one of me, next to a donkey, and that's another one of a donkey with three legs. Don't worry I wont be getting a video camera next year, or shall I?
Now joking apart there are two things that I would like to say, through The Heacham Newsletter, the first is a very big thank you to all the kind people of Heacham that at short notice came to the restaurant's disaster fund lunch, and also many kind people that bought raffle tickets, as with your help I was able to send off to the disaster fund the total of £932.00. Well done and thank you all, and now to my second thank you. A few years ago two people came together, they had known each other for some time and after a short time a baby was born in the village of Heacham. That night there was no great star shining brightly in the sky, and no wise men, but never the less this child would have one of the biggest impacts on this small village, and as with all newborns it became the apple of the parents' eyes. The great day came when the parents had to give it a name, so after a lot of huffmg and puffmg, they both came to  agreement, and the newborn was to be known as Heacham On Line, but sadly like all children they grow up. The child called Heacham On Line has grown up to be one of the finest, if not the finest, village web sites in the country. Sadly for us Heacham On Line has left home, so all I will say is a very big thank you to Malcolm and Barry.

When grandmother made a bread and butter pudding she had a reason in mind, and that was to use up all bread that was going a bit stale, plus the chance of filling the family up with a bit more stodge, but I wonder what she would have thought of today's posh restaurants that serve it on the dessert menus?
Take a deep pie dish and rub it with butter, next take a loaf of thick sliced bread and spread with butter. Once this has been done cut the slices in half and place butter side up into the dish over lapping slightly, add a hand full of mixed fruit over the bread and then start on the next layer.Continuing until you reach the top of the dish or until you have used up all the bread, finishing off with a spot more mixed fruit. Now this is where the posh bit comes in, take a bowl, mix together four whole eggs and around a pint of thin cream, a bit of white sugar to sweeten and whisk well together, and if you really want to be extra posh add two shots of brandy and three spoonfuls of warm apricot jam that's nice and runny to the egg and cream mixture. Then pour it over the bread making sure that it gets a good soaking before baking in a medium warm oven until the pudding is cooked, serve with freshly whipped cream, and lots of it.
Grandmother would probably not have approved, but maybe grandfather would have??

Colin Rushmore