I did, indeed, watch 1940s house the other night, all three hours of it. I enjoyed it more than Frontier House - maybe because it was shorter, or because the family members weren’t as outrageously dumb, or merely because I (who, thanks to years of babysitting, am less than fond of the younguns in general) can’t help wanting to pinch cheeks every which way when I hear a small British boy announcing that the blancmange was gorgeous, just gorgeous?

And speaking of custard-like substances, I’m suddenly in the mood for the dessert Qat and I were served with the lunch special at Calcutta. It was unclear exactly what it really was, but because of its resemblance to an unholy union of flan and some sort of yogurt, I will think of it always as flogurt. Ours was topped by something between a grape and a raisin - a graisin? We would have devoured it entirely if we hadn’t already been stuffed full of truly fantastic Indian food. I mean, my god - the banana pakoras alone.