Son Number One ordered a cheeseburger. We thought we ordered it from the children's menu, but it was a half-pounder, so it's difficult to be sure. He managed to eat half of it, plus some
For 19 month Bagpuss, I thought a side-order of spaghetti bolognaise would be about right. I know, I know, I've been here four months, I should know better by now. It arrived in a nine-inch, heaped bowl. I'm not a big fan of spag bol. In fact, I believe it is a long-running joke of a meal invented by a misanthropic cook. I'm expecting a news story any day now that reads, "Bologna chef admits he invented it to annoy overly clean friends". You take a runny, red, impossible-to-get-out-of-clothes sauce and use it to coat long whippy tendrils of pasta. The result is a perfect example of the lever principle: a small movement of your fork causes the trailing pasta to flick about, flinging tomato sauce far and wide. All this situation really needs for full sauce dispersal is a toddler determined to feed herself. Oh.
Anyway, I tipped enough for the waiter and the cleaning crew - presumably standing just out of sight in plastic aprons and rubber gloves - my theory is if you're going to introduce a place to that kind of dining carnage, make sure you pay them enough that they won't lock the doors the next time you draw up in the
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