“Is it always like this?” I asked. “What is it?” “What is the dish, your grace?” asked the wit. “Why, it’s called curry, don’t you know? Kills the taste of old meat.” “If that’s all it kills, I’m surprised,” says I, disgusted. “No decent human being could stomach this filth.” “We stomach it,” said another. “Ain’t we human beings?” “You know best about that,” I said. “If you take my advice you’ll hang your cook.” HumorCurryFlashman Book:Flashman Source: Flashman