You can take your Japanese/Mediterranean mashups and your Inca/Aboriginal combos and throw them into the duodenal waste bin. I’ve just discovered the ultimate fusion cuisine dish.
Haggis Pakora.
It’s Auld Lang Syne meets Shah Jehan. Rabbie Burns meet Mother Theresa. The Gorbals meets the Taj Mahal. A proper clash of cultures.
When in dining mode, I am a grazer. I like to sample a range of flavours, and try new things as often as possible. Chinese banquets are great.  I like my Indian food to be served on as many plates as possible so I can play culinary Russian roulette with my taste buds. A spot of lime pickle on a spoonful of Vindaloo is like walking your tongue across hot coals, but this is far superior to pavement slabs of bland meat.
The ultimate grazer’s delight is a combination of three words: Spain, seafood and tapas. I think I may have found my mecca, ironically just to the west of the railway station in Fuengirola, Costa del Sol. This place is one of the best restaurants I’ve ever eaten in and almost certainly the best value.
Another from Virgin and you may recall me sampling a range of wines from a mixed case I took as an introductory offer. The results of my samples have been mostly good and my conclusion on Virgin is that for everyday glugging wines, if you choose carefully you will find value rather than fine wines, drinkability rather than complexity, down to earth language rather than pretension.
This Chablis, though, tasted most unlike Chablis.
Does size matter? The dreaded question that haunts 90% of men (but never seems to concern the fairer sex), obviously played on the mind of Mohammad Iqbal Tabassum in 2001 when he bought a former Providence Congregational Church to turn it into an Indian restaurant.
The Aakash, which claims to be, and almost certainly is, the largest Indian restaurant in the world, occupying, as it does, a large parcel of land in Cleckheaton, a small town in West Yorkshire.
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