Mint Leaves

A month or so ago, I had a lovely day out in Bath with my friends Dalfino Madrigal Keyte and Christian Watkins. An important part of any day out, of course, is the lunch and we went to the marvellous Pizza Express. It’s a restaurant I’ve always been very fond of; every time I order a pizza called a romana padana and it has spinach, onions, goats’ cheese and many other excellent toppings which make it a rather wonderful meal.
    But, for me, when visiting Pizza Express, the biggest excitement always comes from the desert. Every time I go there, I get myself their absolutely delicious tiramisu. I already like tiramisu a lot, but this thing is on a whole different level. I mean, when I eat porridge, or beagles, or lemon cake, or whatever, I think of them as nice things to eat, but when I eat a Pizza Express tiramisu, I think of it as a nice life experience. So very nice indeed. As an appetiser to the desert, there’s a mint leaf on it that I eat first.
    As I was lying in the silent ecstasy that follows from one of these tiramisus, I realised that Dalfino had not yet eaten the mint leaf that came with his own tiramisu.
    “May I eat your mint leaf, please?” I asked him.
    “Yeah, sure,” he said.
    “Excellent!” I said and popped it into my mouth.
    “Except I was sucking on that for ages earlier.”
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