I’m eating my refrigerator.

Tonight for dinner I had elicoidali pasta in a fish pesto prepared from bottarga di tonno (pulverised tuna roe) and lemon olive oil, with caperberries and roasted black olives, dressed with flakes of a British pecorino-like cheese which name I forget, but may have had something to do with the name “Brian”.

It was OK.

This public service announcement is brought to you to warn you not drop into my place for dinner for the next few weeks, unless you want to risk being experimented upon.