I had a fine Chicken Masala in the Sree Krishna last night with and . Although in an empty restaurant they sat us right next to a gibbering madman who muttered to himself constantly. Late 30s, early 40s. Beard. He had just bought a cheap portable CD player and proceeded to remove it from the packaging and start listening to a CD. “I think this is a rather cheap model, don't you?” he loudly asked the Sri Lankan waiter. He observed us drinking bottles of Cobra, and said “oh, look. Look at the lovely beer. I think I'll have one of those, please.”

When he'd finished eating, the waiter came over and asked him if he'd enjoyed it. “No, not really, no,” he replied. He took a deep breath and puffed his cheeks out. “I'm all full,” he said.

Thrilling, I know. The restaurant serves a dish called Cauliflower 65. I asked why it was called that. The waiter said “Just one second,” before presumably going to find out. He never came back. So I've no idea. But it would fit quite nicely between The Four Seasons doing “December '63″ and Manhattan Transfer with their distinctive version of “Route 66″.