Breast or Leg

Yesterday I had lunch in a restaurant in north Oxford.

I ordered Pollo Picante from the menu, chicken breast in a chilli, onion, capsicum and garlic sauce. When it finally came it was clearly a leg.   I don’t mind chicken leg, so continued.  The sauce had no chilli or onion, although it had plenty of red pepper and perhaps some garlic for seasoning (although not much).

I called the waiter back to ask to see the menu again, showed him what I’d ordered and what had been served.  He called his Manager.

The Manager came.  I showed him the menu and what had been served…

“It is breast,” he said “with leg coming out of it.”

Breast, with leg coming out of it. Who would eat such a disfigured animal?!

Picture by Darragh Hannan

Those among you that know me well will already appreciate how such a comment would make me feel.  Other guests in the restaurant who were sitting close enough to hear the remark were stupefied into silence. Those farther afield were about to get to know me better.

“It’s breast with leg coming out of it?!” I said, astounded by his response. “I don’t know what physiology your chickens have round here, or whether that reply works on foreign language students or recent students who attend the low quality University in this town, but if you think “it’s breast with leg coming out of it” will work as an explanation for a sophisticated and well travelled adult then think again!”

He took it away and didn’t charge me, amid chastening comments from nearby tables.

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very funny indeed.