Saturday 16th March 2013

The Multis are in the papers today: in the Money section. The Blond Multi is graphed and shown. They are victims of Irish wrong.  I am also seen, in another publication, clutched by Astrid in Vienna, looking alarmed.

So it’s a big day for Poor Little Rich Gays in the papers. But, in truth, rather as the sun never set on the British Empire, so no day passes without Poor Little Rich Gays being in somewhere.

Yesterday Val was trying to get Genevieve Suzy to send us to Rome to cover the Coronation of the Pope.  He’s got in with her over upholstery and of course was driven from Chelsea Harbour to Notting Hill on Monday by a Mrs Onassis-level figure for whom blond is in the family. We thought we’d write a colour piece in Italian (I can only do infinitives) or Latin (Val only knows medieval Latin). But instead Genevieve offered a cruise from Barcelona to Monte Carlo with massive evening functions. I’m not sure Val will be able to remain upright for seven days. So there’ll be room in my state room for a plus one if it comes off. It’s from April 3rd for 6 nights.

We’ve also been making up names for the Pope: Pope Dulcie 1, Pope Evita 1, Pope Celandine V.

Next Friday, Lord Arrowby is using me for The Winslow Boy. But I don’t think this is the night he is to go on as Sir Robert Morton. I say, ‘go on as’. Ridiculous. Lord Arrowby is Sir Robert Morton, as played by Robert Donat.  DNA tests would surely reveal as much. I don’t know how they’ll do the play with him there in the audience. Wires will cross and there’ll be a fire, I shouldn’t wonder.

It’s amazing: he never uses me and can never dine because of so many weddings.

Peter Jones caught fire while I was there on Tuesday, by the way – as I wended back after my own visit to Chelsea Harbour. Absolute catastroph: smoke billowing from Bed Linens. Luckily it was a false alarm.

The old rose stair carpet quest continues: it must be flat-weave. Tancredo Viamare came round on Thursday and he’s going to see what’s available through private channels not accessible to the general public. We spent the evening otherwise picking over the agony of Poor Little Rich Gay relationships – such torment.

I was going to give my menu for the Charity dinner last Saturday:

Twice-Baked Leek and Wensleydale Soufflés with Parmesan Cream sauce and dandelion and walnut salad (quite nice: partly used Debo’s recipe from Chatsworth Cookery book which begins ‘I haven’t cooked since the War’. But messy on the plate. Untidy)

Hot Smoked Salmon, Beetroot and Blood Orange with Crème Fraîche and chive dollop ( dollop was a bit dull: not sure how well the dish sat in the menu: had to come second because of oven logistics)

Rack of Lamb with Aubergine Quarters baked with lemon, garlic and rosemary with basil and mint sauce , tomato stuffed with couscous and mint ( quite good: have a better grasp of rack of lamb. Needs 25 minutes cooking and is still rare. Sauce had little taste)

Rhubarb and Blood Orange Jelly with Blood Orange mascarpone and cream (jelly over gelantined: rubbery. Not much taste: mascarpone wouldn’t take the citrus juice and went grainy)

Apart from that, it was all marvellous.