I FIRST noticed that night as he entered the room. There was something about him, something quite different. As the smoke cleared from his face I could see Philip's hair hanging loosely down his neck. Philip had let his hair down.

"THE besta chef in town!" What else can the head waiter Massimo say? Chef is there by his side tending to a meringue already aflame "alla vesuvio", which threatens to engulf not just himself but half of Tuscany. In the restaurant, the lights are dimmed to simulate, I suspect, the effects of a pyroplastic flow, but also perhaps to intensify the effects of a meringue masquerading as Vesuvius in full volcanic flow.