My rubbish memory bank has been triggered today by this man.
Hats off to you and all that.
I think it's pointless to serve up your signature dish just to get a shag. I wasted one of those dishes on a girl that I met on the train heading back to Worthing. She lived in Shoreham which isn't more than two stops on the train. She did all the usual 'straight' girl pretending dance and in the end she asked for my number, with a twinkle in her eye.
I made her spaghetti bolognaise, but this version that I make is a distinctly Jamaican version, of which I am proud. Hot, spicy, sexy.
She ate some more.
Greedy cow at this point.
Then pissed off to Switzerland the next day to be a snowboarding instructor, without even a god damn thank you.
On all counts.
Some women you just cannot forgive.