Isn't there a scene in some French classic film where the diners have their napkins over their heads and are crunching the little birds? Your post has me mentally replaying this scene in black & white. Maybe I'd better not look at your blog this late at night, Chuck! Annie at the Transplantable Rose
You must watch Gigi as soon as possible.
Read that in the paper this evening, and I was totally disgusted. I was eating dinner at the time too. I can't even eat quail eggs much less a whole songbird.
I think it was Vanity Fair (the magazine, not the book or movie) where I read an account of Mitterand's "Last Supper" - he wanted the most incredible, extravagant meal before he died, so he hired the best French chefs and went somewhere in Africa to actually throw this big dinner party because he had to have the songbird dish, and it is illegal to cook it in France because it is so cruel to the little sparrows. You have to roast them alive right before you eat them, I suppose, to get the right taste, and they are so delicate you need to have the napkin ove your head to capture all of the essences. YUK!!!!!WHATEVER!!!EEEEEEEWWWWWW!!!
That's disgusting on soooo many levels! I'm sorry, but I could never be that hungry/curious/stupid.
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