The Courier & Advertiser (Angus and Dundee)
Better hunt down Pastaval
There may (May?) not seem to be much to celebrate at the moment with another three-and-a-half weeks of election campaigning and the prospect of fractious negotiations with the EU dominating our national horizon for the next heaven knows how long. Especially if you’re a fox (with the happy exception of Brexit’s own Dr Liam), as it seems one of the items at the top of the parliamentary agenda if and when the current government gets back in the saddle is allowing a free vote on overturning the fox-hunting ban.
I have no doubt that there are those with genuinely-held beliefs about the validity of what is seen as a traditional country pastime and, of course, attacks by urban foxes, though rare, are disturbing and need to be dealt with. Although I imagine that that might involve a rather more direct approach than donning a red coat and rustling up a handy pack of hounds.
Now you would think, wouldn’t you, what with everything else that’s going on, that politicians would have more to exercise them.
Be that as it May (I’m sorry, I can’t help myself, it’ll pass off eventually), it’s obvious that many of us are going to have to find other ways of amusing ourselves in the days to come. And with the festival season beckoning invitingly, I reckon I have found the perfect and most comforting event to bring joy to a true Scot’s heart, outside of a Nicola Sturgeon/Wee Jimmy Krankie, Willie Rennie/Oor Wullie lookalike competition.
Today, dear reader, sees the start of Glasgow’s Southside Festival, running until the 28th of the month and just awash with fun for all the family and not quite as major a shock to the system (and the bank balance) as the good old Edinburgh International shindig just down the road.
For this event is offering, as part of its appeal to the beleaguered masses, a macaroni cheese festival. What, I ask you, is not to like? As the home of the macaroni peh, I feel that Dundee City of Design might just have missed a trick here.
Pastaval, as it is suitably and cheesily titled, may sound like one of the more angst-ridden operatic works of Richard Wagner but no. It’s a celebration of macaroni cheese, curated, if such a word can be used about this least pretentious of comfort foods, by the Scottish Macaroni Appreciation Club. I want a membership and I want it now.