|I blame the Ysgawen|
The scene was set. Friends arrived. News was exchanged over a cup of tea as peas were shelled from their pods. Lots more chatting over a couple of beers as I lit the logs in the Rayburn and prepared the steak supper. Inside the oven some skinny chips, big mushrooms and tomatoes with garlic and pepper. As an afterthought, and a quick rummage in the deep freeze, I threw in a few onion rings. Searing hot griddle pan et voilá, a local feast was on the table.
There were compliments to the chef who modestly said it’s all down to the ingredients but apologised for the onion rings which hadn’t quite worked out. Then someone solved the mystery – these onion rings were made of squid. I blame the Ysgawen.