Q. I have an account with a reputable butcher. Last
week I gave a dinner party. Owing to crippling back pain, I used the butcher's delivery service. I asked for two mediumsized chickens, cut up in pieces, and goat's cheese for ten people. This duly arrived. The goat's cheese, the size of a large Yule log, cost £17 and was the first thing I unwrapped. I then noticed that several of the chickens' legs were severely truncated, like those on a dwarf chicken. There was also an odd bit of breast with almost no meat on it. However, I cooked the pieces, making a cog au vin. During dinner one of the guests asked if he was eating rabbit. I poohed-poohed this suggestion. One couple then had a violent argument about whether they were eating chicken or something else; chicken won. Imagine my mortification the next day when, on eating the leftovers, I had to extricate several tiny bones from my mouth. I realised that it had been rabbit all the time. Mary, have I made a fool of myself? Should I sue?
ES., Notting Hill A. A gentlewoman does not sue. In any case, your butcher's misunderstanding highlights the potential of cog au vin to arouse speculation. He has provided a social service through his inadvertent introduction of a new party lubricant. Anyone hosting a potentially boring dinner party can, in future, ask her butcher to throw in a
few alien bones — perhaps less splintery ones than rabbit — to supplement a cog au yin. She can then be sure of, at the very least, a whispering campaign, at the most a stream of excited voices telling Indianrestaurant/Alsatian-dog or anti-butcher anecdotes to enliven the proceedings. Her guests will be given a sense of self-importance and superiority. Any dullards present will delight in the anticipation of having something to add to their conversational repertoires: 'You'll never guess what E.S. gave us to eat the other night. . . . ' Meanwhile the hostess can act daft.
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