The goat’s head soup had every fresh vegetable available from the local market plus a few black-eyed peas. My friend Barbara served it with flourish to me and my former neighbours from Grand Saconnex. They now live in England and were visiting.
Silence reigned as we scoffed it down. Only at the second serving did they start laughing about the head serving double duty. I didn’t understand.
They explained about their picnic Sunday where they crossed the border to investigate a different country.
“The head really served its purpose,” Robin said.
“Purposes,” Barbara said.
I had begged off because of a minor tummy upset leaving me a desire to have a toilet within close distance. Seems the head was frozen solid. Barbara had used it in place of ice to keep her potato salad chilled. On the way back it cooled bottled water.
“And the was still frozen when we got back,” Barbara added, which was why we didn't get the soup until Thursday. It still had to thaw.
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