Well, it was a tasty sorbet. And Stephanie didn't press further about Lucas, because it would have simply been mean.
"I consider it vital, actually. He's established himself, however unwillingly and coincidentally as a leader." She smiled faintly. "Oh, I remember Josephine well enough. She's very ... enthusiastic about just about everything." And really, it was just nice to hear that Jeremiah had found a boyfriend, because well, few people worked harder for the interests of their people than he did.
It was then that the last savory course arrived, sizzling hot, with elaborate printed silk napkins on the side. The ortolan, the piece de resistance of the secret menu. The maitre'd helpfully explained the ritual of eating the ortolan.
Whole. With a napkin draped over the head, to fully capture the flavours and aromas of the dish. To, according to legend, hide one's sins from God. Practically, because it was probably not a beautiful site.
It was presented as a holy sacrament of sorts, the summation and climax of all culinary art. It was also a fat little songbird that was supposed to be eaten whole, served with a small snifter of Armagnac for afterwards, the same beverage it had been drowned in.
no subject
"I consider it vital, actually. He's established himself, however unwillingly and coincidentally as a leader." She smiled faintly. "Oh, I remember Josephine well enough. She's very ... enthusiastic about just about everything." And really, it was just nice to hear that Jeremiah had found a boyfriend, because well, few people worked harder for the interests of their people than he did.
It was then that the last savory course arrived, sizzling hot, with elaborate printed silk napkins on the side. The ortolan, the piece de resistance of the secret menu. The maitre'd helpfully explained the ritual of eating the ortolan.
Whole. With a napkin draped over the head, to fully capture the flavours and aromas of the dish. To, according to legend, hide one's sins from God. Practically, because it was probably not a beautiful site.
It was presented as a holy sacrament of sorts, the summation and climax of all culinary art. It was also a fat little songbird that was supposed to be eaten whole, served with a small snifter of Armagnac for afterwards, the same beverage it had been drowned in.