29 July

For us, the communal table here at Villa del Vecchio is the central focus for the nourishing and nurturing elements that flow from sharing a meal. Seated around its rough-hewn edges with close friends, one can’t help but feel it is a place of joy and an affirmation of all that is good in life. Which makes Ryan’s insistence on telling inappropriate jokes last night all the more disappointing. Now I’m no prude, but I simply find stories about large-breasted nuns with unusually strong sexual drives to be in very poor taste indeed. Not only that, but they almost took our attention away from the arrival of this season’s first figs.

30 July

A somewhat dramatic day, with Phillip having to be rushed to hospital with chest pains! The poor darling had only just finished lunch, a wonderful dish of risotto al gorgonzola, when he felt a tightness in his chest. He bravely soldiered on through dessert (honey mascarpone), but by the time the cheese platter was being passed around he was looking decidedly wan.

We rang an ambulance and soon found ourselves in the emergency room at Siena’s Public Hospital. To cut a long story short, the doctors could find nothing wrong but Phillip has been ordered to take things easy for the next few days. As I write, he’s enjoying a nice long bath and a glass of prosecco.

31 July

Phillip is definitely on the mend this morning, enjoying a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs Florentine. He may even be up to a walk this afternoon, though we don’t want to rush things.

Not such good news from home. It seems my recent article in Wine ’n’ Dine magazine has prompted a veritable flood of angry letters. Apparently, my reference to diabetics as ‘fussy eaters’ has caused offence to some of their insulin-dependent readers. (Why these people are even looking at the magazine eludes me.) Anyway, we’ve agreed to make amends in the next edition by issuing an apology, along with a chance to win a set of measuring cups.

Dinner in town tonight at one of our favourite eateries, Casa Blanca. The food itself was excellent but the ambience was unfortunately destroyed by a group of diners at a nearby table who had insisted on bringing their two young children to dinner. One of them must have been teething and the other was clearly over-tired, judging by the almost constant crying that punctuated our meal. At one point Phillip suggested moving to another table, quite a reasonable request in my book, but this raucous group refused to budge. I actually felt sorry for the restaurant staff, who could clearly tell that the noise was disturbing other patrons but were powerless to do anything about it.

At audrey’s we were committed to providing every guest with a unique and elegant dining experience, which is why we made the decision not to admit children under the age of eight including babies. Well, from the initial public outcry you’d think we’d just opened a twenty-four hour abortion clinic. There were letters to the local paper, petitions, even demonstrations (if you can call half a dozen saggy-chested stalwarts from the Association of Breastfeeding Mothers a ‘demonstration’). But in the end we won the battle on behalf of our customers.