"Born in a trunk", they say when a theatrical sups grease-paint with mothers milk, and if there be a ary equivalent of the phrase then surely I merit it, for was I not ceived the while a soufflé rose? A lobster soufflé, very choice, twenty-five minutes in a medium oven.
And the very first soufflé that ever in her life as e mam was called upon to make, ordered up by some French duc, house guest of Sir and Madam, me mam pleased as punch to fix it for him since few if any fins becs pecked their way to our house, not even during the two weeks of the Great Grouse Shoot when nobs rolled up in droves to score the feathered booty of the skies. Especially not then. Palates like shoe leather. "Pearls before swine," my mother would have said as she relutly sent the four and twenty courses of her Art up to the dining room, except that pigs would have exhibited mourmandise. I tell you, the English try house, yes! thats the place frub; but, only when Sir and Madam……（内容加载失败！）
(ò﹏ò)
抱歉，章节内容不支持该浏览器显示～
【为了使用完整的阅读功能】
请考虑使用〔Chrome 谷歌浏览器〕、〔Safari 苹果浏览器〕或者〔Edge 微软浏览器〕等原生浏览器阅读！
谢谢!!!