"Well, the house specialty is "papas de moado," she intoned. "It'spig's blood cooked with sugar and dried fruits. Do you want to try?"
The words were thrown down as a challenge. To refuse would beculinary cowardice. So, minutes later, I was face to face with ablack, gelatinous mass quivering on the plate before me.
A tentative spoonful launched a subversive assault on thetastebuds that blended blood sausage with blancmange, with hints ofcinnamon, cumin, raisins, pinenuts. Our waitress looked on intently.
"How is it?" she asked, and there was that glint again.
"Delicious," came the stoic reply.
"You really like that stuff?" she asked, wrinkling her …

Комментариев нет:
Отправить комментарий