Sea that gull....

Last night, Doris invited the grandchildren round for tea. He made a delicious warm salad with, amongst many other things, strips of pigeon breast.

Lady S (just turned 10) will eat most things, but only once she's had a forensic investigation of the facts and figures.

'What is this?'

'Pigeon.'

'Pigeon? Couldn't you have pretended it was chicken?'

'But you know it's not chicken. It looks different and it doesn't taste the same.'

'How do I know it's not.....seagull?'

'Because we don't eat seagull in this country.'

'I didn't know we ate pigeon until now!'

She thought about it for a moment longer, and then continued the inquisition.

'So did you get it out of the garden?'

'Of course not. I bought it from the butcher.'

'Is it out of his garden?'

'No! It's a different kind of pigeon from the ones in the garden.'

'I bet it is seagull then.'




She ate it. She loved it. She asked for more.

The seagulls had better beware.....