Greetings, my dears.
Apologies for the dearth of intellectual hooliganism of late: your globetrotting correspondent has been, well, trotting the globe, I guess. Small segments of the globe, at least.
Tumbling and gamboling in my mind (however) like soon-to-be-tender spuds in a bubbling and nutritious stew are numerous ideas for forthcoming posts. So the long wait HAS NOT BEEN IN VAIN, NO, NO, IT HAS NOT BEEN IN VAIN, SWEET ONE.
Meanwhile, though, I'd like to treat y'all to a bit more gastro-snobbery. You love it, don't you? What's more, it justifies me in posting another internal link (part of my ongoing campaign) to hardcore filth (<--- despite appearances, this link is totally safe for work. Unless you're a KFC employee. Or a chicken, I guess.)
In my travels, I had the opportunity (yet, unaccountably enough, passed up said opportunity) to dine in the restaurant with the menu depicted below:
You'll note, natch, the presence of the perennial favourite – a snip at 3.95. But how could even the most ardent panini-lover pass up the option that follows it – the Greek salad – a 'delicious choice for connoisseurs', we are told.
Those connoisseurs, eh? Damn them, with their sophisticated balsamic dressings and their olives and their EXOTIC BLOODY FETA.
DAMN THEM WITH THEIR OUTLANDISH GARLIC BREAD.
(Oh to be a connoisseur...)