The highs and lows of press box food
Greetings and salutations! I am actually enjoying some time away with the family this week in not-so-sunny Devon.
We left as soon as we were finished at White Hart Lane on Saturday - our latest on-the-road production this season. I hope you enjoyed it.
I received plenty of angry emails from Arsenal fans - as many as I got from Tottenham supporters when the programme came live from the Emirates earlier this year - berating us for our choice of venue.
There was about a 10-year wait before I returned - this time to the press box to watch Hoddle manage the side. Sitting in the same seat on Saturday brought back memories.
We also filmed our latest behind-the-scenes footage there. You can watch that below.
The Spurs press box is a rare one. Few are that close to the pitch, within one row of the dugout. Press boxes are a subject close to my heart.
I spent about the first eight years of my career in various ones up and down the country and they have provided some memorable moments.
He spent the entire game with my knees in his back or either side of his head.
At half-time, he launched a verbal assault, telling me that I was unprofessional and too tall to work in a press box. I made matters worse by spilling half my Bovril down his back at the start of the second half.
I was very privileged to sit behind Stuart Hall in the press box at Maine Road on many occasions. He always seemed to be doing little or no work during the match but every now and again he would giggle to himself. At full-time, I used to wait - along with a large group of supporters - to hear him deliver his Shakespearean prose on radio.
I once asked Mr Hall what would be his one piece of advice to a rookie reporter. "Buy a hat young man," he said. "The bigger the better." I didn't follow his advice. Perhaps that's where I went wrong.
Those of you who read my blogs each week will know how I love to talk about food. Well then, I won't let you down this week.
I used to love going to Pride Park once Derby introduced deep fried prawns and guacamole into their pre-match grub.
Leicester weren't far behind in the food stakes. The press officer once sent me off on my journey home with a four-pack of éclairs and a selection of pies and pasties. He still has a special place in my heart.
At the other end of the scale was Coventry City. I've got nothing against the club but I once turned up there to find they had run out of plates and cutlery.
The humble chip played a part in my worst catering experience
I was ludicrously hungry so decided to use my programme as a makeshift platter. My cunning plan would have worked had the chef not chosen to cook chicken casserole!
My worst catering experience took place at Bolton's Reebok Stadium on a freezing cold night about five years ago.
I had to wait ages to file my half-time report and was late getting to the press lounge. I quickly picked up a handful of chips and a pie on one of those polystyrene trays and doused the bad boy in gravy.
I could hear the announcer saying the players were coming back out so I sprinted the two flights of stairs back to my seat.
Unfortunately, I lost my footing in the last few strides and had to commentate on the entire second half with my face covered in gravy.
As I was standing on the platform at Horwich station after the game, a friendly Bolton fan asked me if I knew I had some chips in my hood...
Right, with everyone at Spurs obsessed with finishing fourth, let's have your predictions for the top six at the end of the season.
You can also send in any food-related injuries.
We're on at 12:15 this Saturday but if you can't wait until then you can follow me on twitter at twitter.com/danwalkerbbc