I held my fork like it was a surgical tool, trying to angle it just right to practice. Then the first course arrived.
I heard metal cling from the door, and food arrived.
"For today's lunch." an older gentleman spoke, "Foie Gras de Rillettes"
…
?
Was that English?
Four Grams of the Realest? Are we eating African American cuisine?
As the food arrived, I watched in horror as I was served a plate of thickly sliced German's sourdough bread, with a small bowl of what seemed like cowfeed. A mixture that looked like mayonnaise and canned tuna with some bits of meat.
Maybe it was pate? Like, organ paste? Right, yeah! I've had those before!
I glanced upwards to see that both Hailie and Eirlys had already started eating in the way that I expected, one hand on a knife to cut and spread the mixture, the other hand held the bread.
