The Trout

Trout is good, in my experience. There's trout cooked fresh from one of Dad's fishing expeditions, Schubert's 'Trout', and The Trout Trio, a celebrated group of flautists - Daughter used to play for them as First Reserve, so to speak, when she was in the sixth form. Padra and Arran absolutely love trout. (Urchin doesn't, but you know what he's like about fish. It's a squirrel thing.) And there's a thoroughly good Trout experience to be had at Wolvercote.

If you find yourself near Oxford, be sure to look for the Trout at Wolvercote. It looks like something out of a story, and that's just from the outside. It is a blend of old-fashioned country pub, restaurant, and riverside. To sit outside on a summer evening by the river, eating stone-baked pizza and drinking something chilled, is one of those joys that perfectly rounds off a holiday. Or starts it. Or happens in the middle of it. If you're into Inspector Morse, it turns up in the TV series.

I've just been talking to Daughter on the phone. She lives with a cat called Bu (short for Debussy) who thinks Daughter's bedroom is the nicest room in the house, which, of course, is true. She spent more time than usual in there lately. She's OK with the house dogs, but when a friend's puppy came to visit, poor Bu was most disconcerted and ran up to D's room to hide.

Poor Bu. I'm sure she'd feel better for a bit of poached trout.