In the land that saw me birthed, it is generally regarded as a sin to mix sweet foods with savoury. We do have the odd few exceptions, such as cranberry with turkey, apple with pork and pineapple with gammon, not to mention ham and pineapple pizzas, but, as a general rule, the eyes of the many would widen in disgust were I to announce what I had for lunch the other day.
Bacon pancakes with a fried egg and maple syrup, presented lovingly by Hubby, who had even fashioned my pancakes into a Mickey-esque shape. Such effort and affection went into this dish that I was forced, for the sake of my marriage, to put aside my natural inclination to gurn.
It was good. Really good. I began by gingerly separating the bacon pancake from the one with the syrup, but that didn’t last long.
I happened to be chatting to two of my UK-based friends at the time, both of whom, when I admitted my enjoyment, were more disgusted with me than the food:
Willis: WHAT KIND OF PEOPLE MIX THOSE TWO THINGS?
Kitty: You’re letting the whole country down with statements like that.
I have failed my entire culture. On the plus side, I had a really nice lunch.
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