T. V. Dinners, they're really kind of neat.

For those who are not connoisseurs of eighties American Pop-Rock, they's some of the words from that great and now classic song 'T. V. dinners' by ZZ Top (or Zed Zed Top as they were often incorrectly called on Top of the Pops by the wanky old gits who used to present the programme back then).

Yes, today it was T. V. dinner time - well not one of those little foil packet thingies that come pre-prepared, no, what I mean was I was planning to eat my dinner in front of the T. V. - I was doing the T. V. dinner experience - and what better nosh to have while sitting through a Jean-de-Florette and Manon-des-Sources extravaganza than a giant plate of ribs, with some chips and peas on the side - Oh what a lucky chicken I am. (Although chickens don't eat ribs so I shall call myself a giant Moa today - they'd have happily chomped on a rib or two).

And I didn't just have a plate of ribs - oh no - I had three different types of ribs, each one flavoured in a different style to tempt my taste buds and what a tempting feast it was.

My fingers were sticky (and not from watching Emmanuel Béart in Manon-des-Sources you filthy minded lot) and I was forced to eat the peas and chips with my fingers too - and there was a fair amount of lip smacking and finger licking going on as well as you can imagine.

So which ribs were the best?

At first I thought the Italian style ones were. The simple wine and fennel sauce was great - it was however a bit rich and they would be better served as a starter and having about three - five was too many. The cha siu were great, but would get a bit boring after 3 if that's all you had. The spicy were the sort of thing I could have eaten until I was sick. Having all three types together outweighed any of these piffling concerns and just made the whole experience a joy.

There was a saying in ancient Rome along the lines of: You can tell a rich man as he is always picking at his teeth. If this is so, then today I am the richest man on the planet.


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