A taste of Sparrow

Just to underline the difference I implied in my previous posting between myself and my sisters, while they’ve been doing good works for charity and generally spreading joy amongst their fellows, I’ve been sitting on my own in my study indulging myself and having a good time. I’ve been making what I first thought would be a trailer for the still simmering Sparrow but which turned into a short reading of the opening paragraphs with some fancy pictures signifying nothing.

As I think I’ve said before, making little videos like this is a wonderful displacement activity. It’s as absorbing as writing. And it’s a way of keeping the Sparrow simmering. Actually, come to think of it, this book seems to be spawning culinary metaphors. Maybe calling the video ‘A Taste of Sparrow’ will attract new followers, people who barbecue very small birds such as larks, wrens, ortolans and, of course, sparrows, strip the tiny morsels of flesh from their razor-sharp, throat-threatening bones and wash them down with a can or two of Irn Bru. (NOTE. In fact, the bones of ortolans aren’t like that at all. French bon-viveurs prefer them to be force-fed, marinated for ages in Armagnac then roasted, whereupon they eat them, bones and all. There you are, a gratuitous piece of knowledge you can use in your next conversation with a gastronomic aesthete.)

But these and other birdivores (a word which doesn’t exist, but should), are all welcome, as are any images, comments or symbols linking The Sparrow and gastronomy. I might be able to squeeze another blog out of them.

Share