Memoirs Of A Furtive Gourmet


One of the best kept secrets among cat lovers is that you can train felines to hunt.
Instead of going to the market, I unchain Gargantua and Goliath, after dark, and tell them what I want. Of course, they don’t pay any attention to what I say; after all, they are cats. So, I eat a lot of little song-birds for breakfast.
But occasionally they do bring in a plump little dog which goes right into the broiler.

And then the exotics.
You won’t believe this, but I’ve had everything, even antelope liver. To subdue the gamey flavour of my Cape Steaks, as I call them, I smother them in a sauce made from Camembert and Mendoza, a robust Argentinian Cabernet.

I won’t mention the Ivory Billed Woodpecker.
I didn’t realize what it was, until I had finished the second drumstick.