Eggs Sardou. Chapter 568.
A Slinky is both a fun and a wonderful toy. It walks down stairs alone or in pairs. A Slinky makes a slinkety sound. When I close my eyes, I can hear it now.
There is word on the street that there is a new dame in town, a knock-out. She goes by the moniker, ‘The Slinky One.’ I do not know what gives with that. I have never encountered her. I have only heard rumors. Most of the rumors I have heard seem far-fetched. One never knows.
This is New Orleans.
The heart is a lonely hunter.
I was at Discount Express shopping for sardines. The only brand they had in stock was Bulldog sardines. I am not against buying tinned fish from Thailand but I don’t find the Bulldog name appetizing when it comes to sardines. Color me finicky. Call me persnickety.
The price was right, but I passed. I was looking for sardines packed in spring water. Canneries pack the off fish in hot sauce. Second tier fish go in soya oil. The good fish go into spring water or extra virgin olive oil. Hot sauce sardines are full bruised and riddled with lesions.
Olive oil compliments and mellows the flavor of a fish that is soaked in it. Soybean oil is just something for the fish to sit in. Soybean oil sardines are used as bait to trap feral cats. The cats cannot resist this tasty bait.
I have been thinking about slinkies recently, the fun and wonderful toys that are good for both girls and for boys. I have no idea why my antennae are attuned to all things slinky all of a sudden. Maybe there is an eel run approaching in Bayou St. John. I should head up there tomorrow to take a water sample.
I am going to pull the curtain. You really should become a paid subscriber. Try one month. What? You don’t have seven bucks to waste? I don’t believe you. You will get unlimited access to the archives for a month. That should get you up to speed. It is totally worth seven dollars. I have to eat.
I have a hankering for Eggs Sardou.