Well the Chicken a la King (OK, turkey) was perfectly fine. Very seventies. Like a creamy chicken curry without the curry. I couldn't help thinking that the cream sort of blandified everything. All those lovely ingredients, blandified. I'm thinking I might do a seventies night soon. Prawn cocktail, then chicken Kiyv, then arctic roll, washed down with Liebfraumilch. Blue Nun even. Might even start with pineapple chunks with cheap cheddar cubes on cocktail sticks. I'll do all this in reparation for my terrible seventies behaviour, when I swanned around everywhere wearing a Stuff The Jubilee badge (the Queen's silver job, don't you know). I even wore it when the future Mrs Steve and I went to meet Father Burke in Poplar, the priest who married us. He was a broad-minded chap, thank goodness!