I take care as I serve the first course, trying not to scratch the tablecloth with my claws. They have a life of their own, these jittery hooks of mine, their constant sheathing and unsheathing embarrassing me to no end. I pour the wine, a light Sauternes to match the sweet, spicy, tropical flavours of the starters.
They feast. The conversation now consists of polite gasps peppered with praises and exaltations. “Divine!” exclaims Blatella, savouring the morsels of the young man’s skin. Richard is occupied, happily munching on the flavoursome pepper leaf packets. I have taken great care to ensure the proper balance of ingredients: sweet, acidic, salty, bitter, pungent, citrusy. All gently emphasised by the crunch of cartilage from the ears.
“Impeccable!” was the only word Richard managed
