Thursday, 24 November 2011

Fit for the Queen

Imagine the scene at Buck House, Windsor Castle, Sandringham - or indeed any one of the Queen's gaffs.  She been out late in the evening dressed to the nines in her headscarf and wellies to take the corgis for their final jaunt before they turn into their little crown bedecked baskets with emptied bladders.  When she gets back she feels a little peckish so she calls up a butler so that he can take care of her rumbling tum.

What does she have?  A plate of smoked salmon and caviar or perhaps a cold cut from one of those swans that only she is allowed to shoot.  No, with all that state banqueting she has to do, she  longs for plainer fare.   I reckon that this chip butty that I rustled up for my lunch yesterday, and pictured amongst a collection of 'crown jewels', would be just the type of fare that she noshes in secret.   Crispy chips with melty butter wedged between two slices from Mr Lovelygrey's finest loaf.   Or perhaps she might like an earlier classy offering of mine, the Essex Sandwich?

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