My mum says I’m spoiled rotten and I have to agree. We went to the pub for Sunday lunch and what do you know – I was treated to beef, again. Oh, it was super delicious, great thick slices with lashings of gravy. I had to dig through the sprouts my mum moved off her plate so it was slow going but I managed to scoff every bit. Except the spouts. If my mum hates them, why does she think I would feel any different?
I waited very patiently while it cooled – see, no dribbles.