It is Friday, so I was determined to catch the Robbing Butcher out for once.
I particularly wanted him to be open, so that the weekend breakfast needs of the Mhors could be fulfilled. I therefore said, many times, to Mr. Mhor “I am quite sure that the RB will be closed today.”
(I said this in case the RB had installed a listening device in Mhor Cottage. Nothing would surprise me less.)
Off I went and to my surprise, the RB was open.
I asked for bacon, haggis, Stornoway black pudding, circular square sausage, fruit pudding and eggs “from the new hens.”
The RB glared at me. I have a feeling that he thought I was being impertinent with regard to the eggs.
I glared back at him.
Then he played a low blow. He announced that he had no fruit pudding in stock. I pulled myself together and paid for the rest of my order, then exited the shop, wondering how I was going to break the news to Mr. Mhor.
Mr. Mhor is very fond of fruit pudding with his breakfast. Personally, I can take it or leave it (with “leave it” as my preferred option) but one of the guilty pleasures in Mr. Mhor’s life is eating fruit pudding with his breakfast.
I arrived at Mhor Cottage and gave Mr. Mhor the bad news. He was engaged in cooking some Stornoway black pudding (and readers of this blog may believe, with some justification, that the Mhors subsist almost entirely on Stornoway black pudding.)
“No fruit pudding,” I said, tentatively. “But I got some circular square sausage,” (I was hoping to soften the blow, of course) “and eggs from the new hens.”
Mr. Mhor took it quite well, all things considered, but he went through ten minutes of agitation, and my egg was definitely NOT dippy when it was finally served.
The Robbing Butcher has much to answer for.