Sadly it WAS, she badly needed plucking.
Worse still, on the same evening, in a case of mistaken identity, I told her dad to fox oscar (from his own do, in Addis).
Got back off the det to learn I'd been awarded accelerated promotion (the Wingco met the aircraft . . . oh dear). He phrased it 'unless you can think of any reason to the contrary you can stick your Master up on January 1st'.
I've not drunk Brandy Sours (in any quantity) since.
I think my favourite (because we still do it) is haloumi fried in olive oil or on the Weber (on a flat plate).
Don't forget the kokinelli. I had some a couple of years ago in Paphos and it tasted far too good to be the 'real' thing
