My nose is still sore and my pain and anguish is not being helped by Food Slave’s constant laughter and double entendre references to the word ‘crab’. I think she realised that she was firmly situated on my wick because she disappeared into the kitchen with a full shopping bag. Sometime later, she emerged with a bowl of what can only be described as a marine feast. Apparently it was some kind of fish stew consisting of all manner of seafood, including (dead) crab, and I must say that it smelt very appetising. That will teach me not to judge a book by its cover. Food Slave tied a bib around my neck and I prepared myself for a gourmet delight by taking a large mouthful only to discover that she laced it with garlic and chilli to the extent that only large amounts of pond water put out the fire on my whiskers. And was she contrite? No of course not, although she grudgingly went to the corner shop for a tin of tuna (not as good as fresh but a chap has to eat). I’m seriously considering banning her from the kitchen until she bucks her ideas up. In the meantime if any of you are able to defrost prawns ………..
Posted on: Sat, 15 Jun 2013 22:18:03 +0000
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