351 • Take-Away (5)
Today my old dachshund, Delphine,
Dropped dead in this trendy canteen.
‘You can say au revoir
To your Michelin star,’
I said. ‘So much for Nouvelle Cuisine.’
NOW BRING ME A CHICKEN CHOW MIEN.
The human spirit is infinitely resourceful, it seems. Unwilling to succumb to the grief that typically attends the expiry of a cur, our narrator turns the event to advantage, knowing that – once the press gets hold of the story – the reputation of one more pretentious ‘fooderie’ will be irredeemably trashed. Who wants to eat their supper in some joint where canine corpses are scattered about? Or in a restaurant that welcomes living dogs, come to think of it?
One thought on “351 • Take-Away (5)”
My paternal grandmother’s given names were Delphine Gabrielle Ethelda.
She was a formidable presence in my childhood – I was the eldest and most favoured grandchild – and was gifted her piano when I fled Australia in 1966.
I owe you deepest gratitude for shewing me Russel Hoban, and shall write more next week.
Patrick