Piece of cake.

Recently I have been scrolling through the handy list of blogs attached to the late and very lamented Taste of Garlic. When Keith Epstein stopped updating the review, he said it would remain on line till the rent ran out, and I thought it would be prudent to make a note of all these invaluable addresses. In the course of selecting my favourites and deleting those who are no longer updating, I came across a referene to a quote from Marcel Proust which made me laugh out loud. All acknowlegements due to Farmhouse in France and I hope she wont mind if I recycle her idea in a slightly different form. I must admit that Proust is an author I have never read, though I will admit it would be A GOOD THING. But I have a feeling that it would be tedious, though good for the literary soul... But humour me a little and see if you can guess what our Marcel was experiencing to release these sensations.
    `No sooner had I..... than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent on the extraordinary thing that was happening to me.An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, something isolated,detached, with no suggestion of its origin`  He goes on in similar vein for some time. Have you guessed what he was doing? Well, he was dunking a madelaine in his tea!!! Everyone knows what a madelaine is, I should think, a little sponge bun quite unremarkable. What a sad life Proust must have led to find such an orgasm in dunking a bun in his tea! I roared and I now feel confirmed in my instinctive aversion to reading him, which I had thought was just laziness. Thanks, farmhouseinfrance for the timely warning. I`m off to read a cartoon..

        Bye for now!