I’ve had something of a lucky break today – despite a difficult day.

I’d received an email that proved to be ‘the final straw’ and went dashing off to see my colleague on the floor below to try to sort out a plan of attack to address a difficult situation. She was dashing off but she asked me if I’d got anything on in the evening, to which my response was ‘a date with Corrie’!!!

So, I ended up in one of a small chain of high class Chinese Restaurants, having a meal with her, my boss and one of our amazing Spanish colleagues. It was a thoroughly good night out.

Our first topic of conversation was about how Chinese Restaurants in Madrid (and indeed Spain all over) have a poor reputation so the ‘new breed’ of Chinese Restaurants there are describing themselves as ‘Asian’, rather than Chinese to get away from the ‘Alsatian in the freezer’ reputation. We Brits chuckled at this because our Chinese restaurants had this sort of reputation too many years ago and indeed some are still pretty grim.

Here though, we embrace the Chinese restaurant and the Indian restaurant because our own cuisine is subject of so much ridicule around the world.

Many years ago, I was entertaining an very important client and he asked me if I’d take him to a British Restaurant that served British food (he was a Swede) and so I searched around a bit and found a place in central London that served ‘pie and mash’, ‘jellied eels’ and ‘toad in the hole’. These ‘great British classics’ were on the menu alongside ‘spotted dick’ and treacle sponge’. We washed down these treats with pints of ‘Pride’ (London Pride from Fullers), for those who’ve not experienced this wonderful brew it’s a hand-pump (therefore served at room temperature) beer. Interestingly it was a great night and a very happy client so I was quite pleased.

Nowadays, the likes of Gary Rhodes and Jamie Oliver have made sure that this sort of dish is flourishing again by serving them at their expensive city restaurants and I must say I think that’s a good thing.

Tonight’s meal was tasty, had plenty of obviously ‘fresh’ stuff in it but (as I’m writing this first thing in the morning) I have been awake for more than half the night with that strange ‘monosodium glutomate rush’ that always follows a Chinese meal for me. Weirdly my ‘rivers of blood’ nightmares continue – this time it was my own blood though I won’t go into the gory detail at this hour of the morning. I keep thinking ‘I wish I hadn’t packed that book about the meaning of dreams’ but I did, so I don’t know what this fixation means.

Two years ago, I was photographing hen food and last year, I was wishing I could be in Grimsby.