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A Taste of Honey
10 comments
You and your text messages ! That’s funny.
I’m beginning to wonder if you need glasses? Or perhaps it’s just the layout of your phone that seems to encourage a mix up of texts?
(Years ago I shared a house with a family from Bangladesh. Their culinary hospitality knew no bounds, and to their credit they even ate the chocolate cake I made for their sons birthday even though it was sunken and squidgy.)
Now it would have been funny he the mis directed txt got a positive reply.
Isabelle—it’s this new phone, which is a dauntingly modern 2005 version of a mobile phone. I can’t really work it.
Next step for the Infidel–Muslim Cook-Off will be my ace chacce khole (sp?) – basically chick peas in a ginger, lemon, garlic and mustard seed sauce. Let’s up the ante now!
F: Nothing so far but I’m sure she’s chewing her pencil in a coquettishly hair-flicking way about how to reply to me. (I think not).
you should most definitely continue the food gifting! the next big Muslim holiday is Eid al-Adha (Festival of Sacrifice). They will slaughter a lamb, sheep, or cow - and the family only keeps a third of the meat. One third is given to friends, and another third to the poor. You could be in meat products for a long damn time if you play your cards properly!
Oh dear—I hope there’ll be none of that malarkey down Acacia Avenue!
I’ve been WONDERING about the whole bailiff situation but I certainly wasn’t going to bring it up. Glad it wasn’t them but a harrowing door-knock, nonetheless.
When you say “joking,” it’s understood that you’re not. Well, I’m sure it gave the receptionist something to yammer about with the girls.
I’m actually kind of touched by their gesture. You must find the proper way to acknowledgement. This is détente!
I hate to be a bastard, but you could always try some curried pork sausages.
UB: Yes, I’m going to make a massive portion of Chick Pea Thing (it’s actually very nice) AND—the secret weapon, leave it overnight and then take it round tomorrow. It’s delicious the day after.
The bailiffs are in hand–it’s a long process but they’re back behind the fence temporarily, before I banish them on the pen > sword principle later in the year. But I must make sure everything is absolutely in order before I do that. You’ll hear it all first here of course!
TSB: Hurrah! The Man Whose Name Sounds Like a Bank is back! Excellent news. How we have missed your dispatches from the lunatic asylum.
Late, I know… but I can’t leave here without remarking that ‘..the sauce of unbelief fatally mars my provender’ may be the finest nine word ending to a blogpost I have read ever, anywhere. It also sounds like the title of a great lost progrock concept album.
You do say some nice things Mr Crinkly. I’m sort of aiming at the imaginary intersection between Borges, George Eliot and Laurence Sterne, rather than at the lyrical confluence of Hawkwind, Tangerine Dream and the Grateful Dead, but I appreciate the comparison in any case.
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