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The tasty curry

When my grandfather started out as a rubber planter, he basically lived deep in the Malayan jungle, with only his indented labourers for company. The only contact he had with the outside world was a once a month delivery of supplies which included food. The first couple of weeks after this delivery were times of relative culinary delights, however as the fresh foods were eaten the choices remaining became fewer and fewer. In the last couple of days before the next delivery my grandfather was reduced to curried stale toast. One time when his appetite deserted him, he instead took the opportunity to go for a walk to take his mind off food. When he passed the part of the plantation where the coolies stayed he smelled something that seemed absolutely divine. Of course he was drawn inexorably towards it. He was greeted kindly by the coolies who were glad to see him, and he asked what it was that they were eating. Of course a bowl was presented to him and he began to eat. It was wonderful and he was rapturous. He asked again what it was, but the inadequacies of language prevented an immediate translation. He finished his helping and eventually one of the coolies found a name for the dish. It was “Curried Rat” My grandfather immediately found a very close and private place where he was violently ill. Sometimes it is better not to know, and prudent not to ask. After all he was looking a gift rat in the mouth! 

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