To the Chef at The Wrinkled Shrew,
I’m not sure why you think you can justify charging your
patrons for serving the unpalatable slop I had the misfortune
of consuming the other day.
“Fried duck with deep-fried mashed potato” should be renamed
“Fried feet with deep-fried lard”. My lady companion, for her
part, found 3 different fishbones in her red snapper fillet.
One got lodged in her throat, and we spent the better part of
the hour trying to wash it down with red wine.
I took pity on your serving lady and paid for our food anyway.
But I would advise you to get a change in scenery. A cook on a
pirate ship, perhaps? Grog-damaged palates would surely be
more receptive to your “creations”.
Best Regards,
H. Ferral
Read the The Agartes Epilogues. It won’t take too much of your time.
