Ok, I really thought long and hard whether this was suitable material for this here blog, but at the end of the day I couldn't resist.
The story goes like this. The other adorable half has a sweet tooth the likes of which I have never encountered. When we go out for dinner it is not uncommon for him to have FOUR deserts. As I have mentioned before the food in Istanbul was to die for (which would also explain why I struggled to get into my jeans for about 2 months after...), including all things sweet and delicious looking which drove the other half to near delirium with pleasure.
After another day of endless walking and frenetic picture taking on my part we were suitably famished and wandered into what appeared to be a very funky little local restaurant. We had fab grub and even though I was ready for bed the other half insisted on sampling just one desert. And that is when the fun started.
Dark Chocolate Dream was his poison of choice. The waiter came over, the other half ordered and the waiter exploded into fits of laughter. Great was our confusion, but he assured us that he was not laughing at us and after apologising profusely ran to the kitchen....rather suspiciously. We soon forgot and continued sipping our whiskey's serenely when we heard a bit of a ruckus approaching us.
There was the waiter, the other half's delectable desert aloft, approaching our table to howls of delight from the other tables. What could possibly be so funny, what could possibly make complete strangers storm your table to unashamedly take photographs of what you are about to eat you ask?
Grab a stiff drink for the shock.
Send the kids to their room.
Phone a friend
And get ready for this......
Hot Pants for Men in 1971
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