The other night at an aperitif at Franck’s sisters house I was easting on a plate of what I believed was jambon perseille – a parsley flavoured ham treat that is one of Burgundy’s renowned specialities.

“This is so good!” I said to Steph. “I have missed jambon perseille so much.”

Steph had a funny look about her mouth and didn’t say anything.

Quoi?” I demanded. 

“It’s not exactly jambon perseille,” she said. 

“Yes it is.”

“No.  It’s fromage de tete.  I didn’t have the heart to tell you – you were just enjoying it so much.”

So I had been feasting on “head cheese” (i.e. pate made out of cows brains, etc.) all that time.

I chewed the piece I had in my mouth.  “It’s still delicious,” I had to admit.

But now they have resorted to all manner of peridy to make me like offal I will have to be on my guard.  Next thing I know they will be slipping andouillette into my pasta.