Just discovered that Young Keith lied about the contents of a haggis. It's worse than that: much worse than that. And that's just the _inside_. Time to copy that other silver fox, Mr H. Ford (and not, as Mrs Hnaef suggested, the automobile magnate), and open the 40 year old Bruichladdich I spotted in the Archdruid's office the other day: that's bound to counteract the worst effects.
And the Archdruid won't mind: she's a very sharing person.
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Digestive juices treat it all the same, regardless of which bit it is. I admit I got a bit of a shock, though, when I moved to Birmingham, bought some sweetbreads, and discovered that, rather than the pancreas I grew up with, it means testicles in the Midlands. They weren't bad sliced and fried.
ReplyDeleteRobert, I'm sorry to hear you grew up with a pancreas. Unless, of course, you refer to your own - in which case that is quite good news.
ReplyDelete