‘Papa, tell us some more about when you and Tommy’s mother were poor. How poor did you ever get?’I believe you’re wrong, young Tom Hudson. (And I don't know how to indent paragraphs within a block quote.)
‘They were pretty poor,’ Roger said. ‘I can remember when your father used to make up all young Tom’s bottles in the morning and go to the market to buy the best and the cheapest vegetables. I’d meet him coming back from the market when I was going out for breakfast.’
‘I was the finest judge of poireaux in the sixth arrondissement,’ Thomas Hudson told the boys.
‘It looks like long, green, quite big onions,’ young Tom said. ‘Only it’s not bright shiny like onions. It’s dull shiny. The leaves are green and the ends are white. You boil it and eat it cold with olive oil and vinegar mixed with salt and pepper. You eat the whole thing, top and all. It’s delicious. I believe I’ve eaten as much of it as maybe anybody in the world.’
These series of mine have a pattern of not running very long. Let’s see with this one. Recognise the extract?
Posted by kitchen hand at 12:18 PM