Two panini conversations took place yesterday.
The first was with a man who had brought an international group on a history/heritage tour.
“Your panini,” he began, “what are they like because I don’t really get on with them. I’ve had a few on my travels and they’re always hard and crispy. Are yours? Or are they unctuous?”
I should have suggested that if he hadn’t got on with them in the past then perhaps panini weren’t his thing but he decided he would order one with a filling of our home-cooked ham and cheddar.
I went through to the conservatory where the group was finishing lunch.
I asked what he thought?
His face told the whole story.
“Perhaps,” I ventured, “it’s time to give up on panini. It’s an affair that’s never going to work. Leave it and move on.”
He looked saddened.
A cream tea put the smile back on his face.
Then, a short while later:
“Can I be awkward?” she asked.
It was a fairly quiet, rainy Sunday, so I wasn’t phased.
“Instead of bacon, brie and cranberry on my panini please may I have bacon, brie and pesto?”
I told her she wasn’t at all awkward and we’d give it a go. I also told her that if she thought it was a winner then it may just end up on our menu...
She returned to the counter to tell me that it was delicious and should really be a regular.