An interesting menu
Northumbrians are chewy, often hard to digest. Gristle gets caught in the teeth. The Hownslow peasant has a sour taste. In contrast, the Cotswold peasant is succulent and soft. As I studied the menu, I wondered whether they had gone for the cheaper option, and whether if slow cooked in a rich honey glaze, I would notice the difference. I noticed they went for breast of peasant, which is nice enough, but a bit bony. My preference tends towards the leg or loin, but I steer clear of feet or hands. Peasant cheeks are nice pan-fried with a red wine jus.
Some of you may prefer peasant children fattened in crates, but I call that depraved—even with Fava beans.
"What are you looking at?" my wife asked.
I pointed at the menu above. "I know what I'm having"
She looked thoughtful. "I wonder where they keep them?"
That set me off on a quest, and on the deck, I may have found the answer
It was a three-day journey to Split and Diocletian’s palace, so in between eating peasants I watched a lot of sea, convincing myself there was a discernible difference between the Mediterranean and the Adriatic. I can convince myself of most things.
And how do you stop taking pictures of sunsets? You have been warned.
