The secret of catching mackerel has nothing to do with rubbing horseshit on the hooks or pissing on the feathers, the secret lies in knowing where to catch. If they are there and there’s a hook in the water they will bite at it no matter what it smells or tastes like. The difficulty lies in knowing if they are there. With the water being black like it is you can only see a foot or so through and after that there is nothing to see. There could be a million mackerel down there but all you will see is the colour of the water and that’s it.

There are places they should be at times of the day and go there and get it right then you should come back with a full bucket. But you can go to that sane spot the following day and come back with nothing.

The fish are down there alright but if they are swimming ten foot to the left of where you line is you won’t catch them.

– Clancy O’Conner would tie old CDs to the line so that they’d spin in the water and any bit of light down there would spin off them and attract the fish. Better use down there, he said, than having to listen to the music on the feckin’ things.

– Another man he painted his line a florescent green that he swore he could see twenty five foot down from the surface.

– And there was that man who almost killed himself with electricity and water when he tied a set of Christmas Lights to his line and had them connected to an old car battery he had in his boat.

– You want to tie something bright to the line. I tried it once with sweet wrappers. You know the ones you get in a box of Quality Streets, all purple, green, orange and pink it was. Still caught no feckin’ fish but the chocolates were good.

– A good piece of tweed will do it. Something with a red flash to it. If you have that on the line you’ll have a go.

There is something quite satisfying in coming home on a Friday evening and being able to put a chicken in a pot.

Most Friday evenings I just cook for myself. It is red meat night and all those who don’t eat can fend for themselves.

But this evening there was a craving for noodles and so I caved in and tried to work myself round something that everyone would eat. So I delved into another Diane Henry book and came up with Chiang Mai chicken noodles.

It needed both chicken stock and leftover cooked chicken and that gave the impetus to me taking a whole small free range chicken and putting it into the pot.

Before doing so I hacked into quarters. I then fried it off in some oil with a roughly chopped onion and some bits of carrot. As soon as it started to brown I poured in water to fill the pot, brought it to the boil and left it. Children came in and asked when they were going to eat and I said in an hour or so.

Once that hour was done I started to put it all together.

This meant getting the wok out of the basement and heating it up with some groundnut oil at the bottom.  A finely chopped onion was added and cooked until it just started to char. A couple of cloves of garlic were then stirred in. Then two teaspoons worth of turmeric and then some teaspoons worth (I wasn’t counting) of the green curry paste that has been at the back of the fridge for a few months now but is showing no signs of going off.

All that was stirred for a while at a high heat. I then added coconut milk and started to ladle off the stock from the pan where the chicken had been cooking.

As the sauce was left to cook I picked apart the chicken and put it to one side.

The sauce was still cooking so I took the time to chop up some spring onions, red chilli and coriander.

We were all about ready to eat. So noodles were stirred into the stock and as they softened the chicken was put back in. It was all seasoned with lime juice, fish sauce and sugar before being finished off with the spring onions, coriander and chilli.

I think it went down ok.

Twenty five years ago I would dream of Michael Stipe and talks under kitchen tables and then moving on to watch REM play. Now I dream of mackerel and the lack of them is making me anxious.

On Sunday night I dreamt we were in Ireland and at the Cottage and it was the last day of the holiday  and for whatever reason we had not been out fishing and so no mackerel had been caught over the two weeks we had been there. This had been partly down to the weather but there were other undisclosed reasons that lurked at the back of my mind. No matter, I decided to take a boat out for the only and last time of the holiday.

In the confines of the dream the shape of the water, the pier and the bay were all awry and there was a struggle to get my bearings. There was a wind up and suddenly it looked too rough to be taking a boat out for some fishing. But this was the only time to be doing it. The engine on the grey dinghy was broken. So I was left with taking out one of the kayaks.

The kayaks were in the garage so I made my way over the road to get one of them out. The wind was up now and the water had risen so it spilled over the pier and into the garden and orchard. I waded through to get the garage. By the time I got there it was almost totally submerged. I put my head down to swim through the door to pull one of the kayaks out. As I did so I woke up with a start. Still no mackerel caught.

So late this afternoon I was sat in one of my favourite tapas bars in London. Work for the day was done and there was a small glass of beer in front of me and three pale blue speckled quail’s eggs nestled next to small mounds of sea salt and just crushed roasted cumin seeds.

It had taken me about 45 minutes to walk there with two heavy bags on my back. The taxi taking me to my afternoon meeting had gone through Clerkenwell so rather naively I had thought it would not take me too long to walk back. I didn’t have the address of where I was going just a vague idea of direction and the hope that I would recognise it when I got there. It took longer anticipated and there were lots of stops to look at maps to try and get a sense of where I was and where I was going. Eventually I came across a map where I found a street called Exmouth Market and I knew that I was near.

When I got to Morito there was noone there. But the lights were on and there was a waitress out the back. The door was open and she told me they were not quite open but I could go in have a seat and they would be able to give me something to eat in five or so minutes.

I took my seat and someone brought me a small glass of water. Although the kitchen was not yet open they could give me something to nibble on. So I asked for a beer and the quail’s eggs and some bread to chew on.

Music was playing quietly. It was familiar and hard to place. Another song came on and it sounded as if someone’s iPod was on shuffle.  As I finished the second quail’s egg another song came on and it was the opening few bars of The Ballad El Goodo. I sat back with a smile. Quail’s eggs, beer and Big Star. It doesn’t take much to make me smile.

Then the man behind the bar pressed forward and Big Star was swiped off and the music was David Bowie and Ashes to Ashes. An okay Bowie song but not Big Star.

The man walked past me and asked if I wanted another beer. I nodded yes and asked him ‘What was wrong with Big Star?’

He looked slightly taken aback. I was wearing my suit with a case by my feet.

‘Oh shit. I thought that’ he said. ‘It was Ballad of El Goodo and it goes a bit loud and you were the only one in here and I thought as I pressed the button he can’t  be a fan.’

‘There you are’ I said. ‘I had a smile on my face as it came on.’

‘No worries. I’ll put it on again. It’s only a shame that September Gurls isn’t on the playlist.’

So he put it on again. And then he put on some Neil Young. I ate a small plate beetroot with creamy cheese and walnuts and another small plate of spiced lamb with aubergine and yogurt.

Then to finish I had a plate a baby squid with sumac. As I ordered I passed him my iPod scrolled down to September Gurls. He didn’t say anything but took it from me and plugged it in.

I had a glass of manzinilla with the squid. They were very small. Less than an inch long. Crispy and tart with the sumac. My iPod stayed plugged in and as a few mnore customers came in they got to listen to Big Star as well.