"Went to a restaurant once in London. A French one. The food there is exquisite, so exquisite. So exquisite, I learned about food there."
They are on the beach, right near the ocean. The tide brushes at their feet. The sun shines, ruining their delicate white skin.
"The meal, it was meat and three veg." He speaks with an English Accent. "Each veg has a sauce. And each sauce brings out flavours of the veg, which you wouldn't otherwise know were there. The mashed potatoes, for example. The mashed potatoes. Oh, God, the mashed potatoes. The sauce brought out a flavour in the mashed potatoes I had never knew existed, O God...."
The man with the English Accent, he looks at the White Kid From Fort Battleford. "Do you know what I mean?" The Englishman asks. He doesn't wait for a reply - the question is rhetorical. "I mean you have to find the hidden flavour of the potato with your special sauce!" The Englishman gives the White Kid From Fort Battleford a knowing look - a sage look - and walks off.
Quite a few feet away, the Englishman turns around and shouts, "Find Hidden Flavours in the Potatoes!!! Use your special sauce!!!"
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