T's leaving do at the Aladdin (check out the 'booking' tab - bless!) in Withington, was a veritable feast of Syrian goodies and I confess to coming around to R's way of thinking that this might just be the best baba ghannouj in Manchester.
Really sad to be saying goodbye to T (again - it's becoming a yearly event), but so good that all the immigration nightmares are finally over and he can at last get back to E in Canada and be together for their first married Christmas.
After the meal, everyone pours over the road to the Red Lion.
Amusement ensues as J (ethnically Jewish, but not really religously practicing) remembers he has arranged for some friends to meet him in the pub. Some, as he puts it, "very very Jewish" friends. The problem? Well J had unthinkingly decided to wear this lovely black and gold t-shirt for the evening...
The look of pure evil mischief making that enters T's eyes when this news reaches him is quite worrying.
He ambles over and offers to take everyone's coats. Surely J must be very warm with his thick coat all still zipped up like that no?
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