The other night a friend and I demolished a small roast of beef, getting into training for Christmas.
An unexpected addition to the menu was dry roasted biro.
For one dread moment I wondered whether I was the woman who mistook her pen for an aubergine.
But in a flash I solved the mystery. (Applause for Madame Sherlock.) A stray pen could easily be swept up in a tea-towel doubling as oven mitt and deposited in the oven along with a dish of vegetables, couldn't it? So it was served as an hors d'oeuvre with a soupçon of Dijon mustard and a garnish of Moore Wilson semi-dried tomatoes.
Modestly I claim the biro was a success. Tough and dry, I'll grant you that. But an impressive indigo colour and an acerbic literary flavour made it a fine culinary innovation. Recommended.