Chef's perk

[desperance]

I can haz the Pope's nose. Roasted for a second time, half an hour in a hot oven while the sossidges baked and it crisped up lovely; now sitting beside the cooker to be nibbled on as I come and go, as I stir the risotto and admire the pie and consult the sossidges and wait for the yogi to return all bendy from their sesh.

I may not actually want any, y'know, actual dinner. Wine and the Pope's nose, that could be plenty.

Om, and also nom.