In England, if you’re really fancy, the Royal Family, who is headed by an environmentalist, will give you permission to eat a swan, their family symbol, at a special dinner.
Although I studied at Cambridge, to learn their fancy ways, I’m not sure how they kill these beautiful white birds.
Still, as my lovely girlfriend, who had nothing to do with any of this, taught me better table manners, we supped in our own home on the less fancy meals of veal, made from dead baby cows, of crabs, with their legs torn from their bodies, and of lobsters, steamed alive in our kitchen, while we enjoyed savory cheeses made with rennet from the chopped-up stomachs of the murdered children of bulls, rams, and goats.
The English eating swans is like the French eating songbirds, but, while the French just do this, the English look for permission from their overlords in the German-Danish-Greek Family that calls itself Windsor but is really far fancier since Queen Elizabeth’s true surname was Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, while her husband, Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh, had, as his surname, the quadruple barrelled Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg.
I’m not sure of the name of King Charles, since it’s all a bit confusing to a simple American, but his father may have been Lord Mountbatten, or Prince von Battenberg, or the Earl of Burma, whom the young prince called his Uncle Dickie.
Here you can learn about the unusual foods of the English, while many have been sampled by King Charles.
You never know what these fellows will eat.
It’s all so terribly European.
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