Confessions of an apologetic agnostic

You were expecting an ode.

I believe we’ve already established, that my talents clearly lie in different directions. Yet, the haiku like perfection of succulent, sweet flesh laced with the crunch of flimsy deep fried claws, ajinomoto laced tempura batter (and a sweep of sweet chili sauce) clearly demands the citation from Sweden that was so callously misappropriated earlier this year.

Soft shell crab. The kind that makes me want to get down on my knees and pray. I feel my aura being permeated by a higher being as my teeth sink into it, tongue savouring the pure flavours, mouth engrossed in the texture..... and I contemplate an utterly un PC though - this must be what the jihadis are won over with.... Nothing tastes better than vulnerability, and my guilty qualms about the pillage of defenceless creatures is lost to my baser instincts.

I feel conflicted - it doesn't seem right for an agnostic to feel religious over dessert and let me assure you, that exhaustive empirical research has gone into establishing that a deep fried soft shell crab is inherently superior to any sweet, gooey, wobbly, multicoloured post-prandial offering, and a perfect lude to end your inter with (It's late!! and I've already been the envy of felines and hypnotised by medicine).

Thai Rice. Opposite Maida Vale tube station. A revelation - funky decor (backlit tables flanked by leather banquettes and exposed brickish type stuff on the walls...), a jhol bhaat moment to delight in and home delivery! Oh.... did I mention dessert?

Marie darling, if only you could have seen beyond your brioche, and kept your pretty head.....