Philip cautiously cracks the small egg that had been sitting on the dining table all afternoon while he cooked the chicken he had slaughtered for me.
What treasures lay inside? …
Philip and Theresia’s daughter is keen to find out.
Philip insisted the egg was from a Cock. I’d never heard of such things before and thought I was being taken for a ride. Theresia insisted that a small egg like this one might be lain by a Cock when he reaches what she gleefully called his menopause. A quick seartch on google informed me that we were lucky not to find a baby Cockatrice inside the egg. Also that ‘Cockney’ was an old slang word for a Cock’s egg: one that was small and misshepen, and hence became the name of the folk from the East End who were considered to be likewise!
Meanwhile there was chicken and chapati to eat. The Wakamba people who inhabit the Tala region apparently hold it as a tradition that when a chicken is slaughtered for someone, its gizard must be presented to them as a delicacy. Well, it was chewy!
Comments are closed.