The last time the Dramaturg was by, he was singing the praises of a couple of cookbooks emanating from a restaurant called Moro. We bought them, and he was quite right (advt.). One of the things which the Northern Professor rather fancied trying some time was Moroccan flatbread cooked in the ashes of a wood fire. As it happened, yesterday being Sunday, and us being in possession of a weekend guest therefore congregating by a proper fire rather than in our respective studies, it struck him that this was the perfect occasion for having a go at Casa Moro’s ethnic special. Dough was duly made, and while I did ordinary cooking on a bog standard stove, Prof & Guest set about ethnic bakery in the sitting room. Rather to our surprise, it worked. The dough did not become studded with shards of charcoal etc. But when Guest came through with the first product, it had to be admitted, it did look like something which had been dropped in the fire. And then I had the brainwave. The Canadian Professor has a bizarrely comprehensive Kitchen Widgets shop in Toronto which she occasionally raids on my behalf; one such offering was a mushroom brush (do I hear anyone say ‘life’s too short to brush a mushroom?’ Fie on you. They so readily go soggy when washed, there is much to be said for brushing them instead. Anyway.) I had a moment of intelligence. ‘What about the mushroom brush?’ I said. And do you know, it worked like a charm. Brushity brush brush brush, and dear little flatbreads emerged from their light coating of ash, and there we were. Actually, it was all very nice. A bit of a fuss-up, but as authentic as anything, and now we know what else you can do with a mushroom brush.