A humorous posting with great photos. I commented on it as follows: Clever as ever! The story of the sheep reminded me of a postcard that I once sent from Ireland to an Englishman friend. On the front was a picture of a sheep at pasture, with the title “Missing Ewe”. I scribbled some nonsense on the back about hoping he’d return to me soon, and signed it, “Love, Deirdre.” His wife was not amused!
I was not familiar with the term “pangritata” and you inspired me to Google it. I discovered that I had eaten it before, in a now defunct Sicilian Restaurant in New York. It was spread on a dish of Spaghetti con Sarde, which my father had always raved about, and which his mother used to make. You have motivated me to attempt to re-create it. Thanks!
The sheep in the adjoining field are very keen on bread, in all its varied forms. They are keen on it because we, not being farmers but eaters of farmers’ produce, have fed them the bread, for which we have no further use, and the sheep couldn’t be happier. They could be happier, but couldn’t we all. Giving them stale bread is as far as I can go in bringing happiness to sheep, particularly as the sheep in question are barely acquaintances of mine. A line has to be drawn somewhere and drawing it between me and sheep pleasuring is in the true spirit of the Alamo. Sacrifices have to be made.
Already I hear an uproar in the cheap seats ” Shame on you, sir, casting brioche before swine…or sheep like swine”. There is no question that I have been remiss when it comes to stale bread. I know…
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