Restaurant où les porcs ne voulait pas manger

Restaurant  où les porcs ne voulait pas manger

Ah bienvenue a la Restaurant où les porcs ne voulait pas manger. Nous sommes delighte to bienvenue de le restaurant, quand le residents d’Biffordshire aime tout suite. Notre menu est superb et il est tout de bon things to mange. Ouevre pour le petit-dejeuner and le grand dejeuner et les repas in between de la Huit heures Am until la evening time. Plus Tard by arrangements. Voici la menu en Anglais pour vous, vous anglais idiots et bastads. Tres bon!

Les entrees

  • Pig insecurities pan fried in a special Jonathan Ross sauce. Served with oak smoked bat chips and a sympathy of garden vegetables
  • Grandad’s war medals crushed in front of him, drizzled with Maroon 5 jus and spun around the block in Gustav’s Citroen 2CV. Served with a shouting of dead wildebeest horn, shaved and erected to your liking
  • Chicken chop sticks straightened with an aubergine ruler and splashed with nocturnal liquids. Hand badgered until medium rare and presented on an anxious nine year-old’s duvet cover.

Les main

  • HAND reared Les Dennis, matured over balsa wood for extra tenderness. Served with a medley of David Hockney examined vegetables and a view of the Norfolk Broads, binoculars optional
  • MUSICAL Youth style jerk off beef. Pan fried until screaming in a David Blunkett flavoured butter sauce. Served with a blanket and a three day old bus ticket stopping at Whump, Feeble and Cock-on-the-Mold
  • LAMB shanks, startled to your taste and infused with a suppository puree. Choose from baked potatoes or a three year call of duty service in Northern Belize
  • MONKEY Lungs – forced up against a wall against their will. Strenuously denied in front of a live TV audience and drizzled in a Blankety Blank sauce. Served with un peu de stink of creamed back hair and a month long XBOX live pass.

Et pour les desserts

  • WRANGLED cream, shot at close range with the chief’s butter gun. Ransomed gently over a low flame and beaten to make it look like an accident. Dripped with fresh fruit puree instilled with disappointment
  • PAPAL turnover – traditional Vatican dessert, stripped and oiled to your liking. Cooked aggressively over a high heat before being gently neutered in the larger of our two fridges. Served with a panacotta of goat complaints and a David Dimbelby jus
  • LES Chats est non importante – enjoy a taste of Spain with our speciality. Cats are not important pudding is secreted from live ginger toms before being worked into a light and frothy muffin. Delicious served with broken toast and a bag of forgotten aspirations
  • ARTHUR C CLARKE – exhumed lovingly by our resident chef de partie and served with warm custard and flavoured oxygen
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