Greece at Seventeen Knots

Greece tonight, presented by Elena while the South China Sea continued outside with no apparent interest in Mediterranean affairs. Her menu has become one of the most dependable ways of giving a day its own character. Water and sky can repeat themselves with considerable persistence. Dinner, in Elena's hands, is allowed a much wider range of opinions and textures.

There was lamb, potatoes, salad and moussaka. The warmth from the dishes and the smell of the lamb made an excellent first impression. I approached the aubergine with the seriousness of a peace negotiation. It would be wrong to suggest that I arrived without reservations. Equally, I wished to demonstrate that I was capable of constructive engagement when circumstances justified it.

The moussaka was excellent. This is a straightforward statement, though not one I make lightly where aubergine is concerned. The soft richness of it sat very comfortably beside the rest of the meal. I ate with the cautious pleasure of a man discovering that an old disagreement might have depended partly on the conditions under which previous meetings had taken place.

My stomach raised no formal objection. That silence is important and has been entered into the record accordingly. It does not revise the historical record, nor should anybody interpret one successful dinner as a complete surrender of principle. It does, however, open diplomatic channels. Elena had supplied the opportunity with her usual practical confidence. I had supplied a fork and a degree of suspicion. For once, the fork proved the more useful contribution.