( a double drabble)
“What is it? Kuryakin studied the morsel with the eyes of a scientist.
“Will you stop playing with your food and just eat it,” Napoleon said.
“This you call food? It is breaded and deep fried. It all looks the same.” He sniffed it. “Smells the same too. I repeat my question...what is it.”
“It’s fried clam strips. You dip it in the tartar sauce or the red cocktail sauce and pop it in your mouth.
“Tsk. If you say so…” Illya chewed the fried clam.
“And?” Solo was waiting for a reaction, and knowing his partner loved food he was quite surprised by what Illya said.
“Not bad. A little rubbery. it has a some flavor once you get past the breading and sauce.” He crinkled his nose. “I prefer caviar, or coulibiac to these fried...things.
“You’re actually being a snob? What happened with the bourgeois and decadent comments.”
“Russian foods do not warrant such titles.”
Solo chuckled as he saw his partner reach for another clam, and dip it in the sauce.
“I thought you didn’t like them?”
“Napoleon, food is food. It is good... when you are paying for it.” Illya winked at him.
|Coulibiac is a fish loaf ( usually salmon or sturgeon) with rice, hard boiled eggs
mushrooms and dill