Expandable text block here overawing the project.

The temperature inside this apple pie is over one thousand degrees. If I squeeze it, a jet of molten bramley apple will squirt out. Could go your way; could go mine. Either way, one of us is going down.

And, can I have the same, please? But with different shaped pasta. What do you call those pasta in bows? Like a bow-tie, but miniature? Like an action man bow-tie.And, can I have the same, please? But with different shaped pasta. What do you call those pasta in bows? Like a bow-tie, but miniature? Like an action man bow-tie.

… and that was Big Yellow Taxi by Joni Mitchell, a song in which Joni complains that they paved paradise to put up a parking lot. A measure which actually would have alleviated traffic congestion on the outskirts of paradise, something which Joni singularly fails to point out - perhaps because it doesn’t quite fit in with her blinkered view of the world. Nevertheless, nice song.

The temperature inside this apple pie is over one thousand degrees. If I squeeze it, a jet of molten bramley apple will squirt out. Could go your way; could go mine. Either way, one of us is going down.