But not tonight.
Tonight we were going for dinner with my domestic assistant's sewing instructor, Norma. Having sampled pretty much all of the City's eateries we deiced to go, on recommendation, to Manning's.
I am not the pleasant %^$£&^
My restaurant rule number seven, as readers of this blog will know, is always eat pheasant if its on the menu unless monkfish is also. Well... Mannings threw me a bit of a curveball, because it had partridge, which is a member of the pheasant family, but, is not actually a pheasant.
What was I to do?
I bent and then followed the rule and ordered the partridge. Other people I was with ordered other stuff which was invariably described as abso-yummilicious. The eldest member the party, who was 63 and had thus eaten many meals proclaimed, and I quote, "One of the nicest meals I have ever had."
All in all... a resounding success.... but what about my partridge?
Look at this for a tasty partridgey meal:
Oh no, not that...
...just showing off
............ trying to trick you for a moment into thinking that was my partridge... it wasn't... no way...it was just part of my partridge.
... this was my partridge:
Now that's what I call a slow roasted partridge served with a rustic sausage and bean cassoulet! Hum-dinger. But as well as be fully sated as we all were, the evening at Mannings also taught me that there really is a "space of taste" between quail and pheasant. Bravo!
Currently the Best Restaurant in Truro
Lemon Street, Truro