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January 10, 2006

January 10, 2006

A critical ingredient for a recipe is missing.

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D: Bon Appetit

Best described as rustic and authentic Provencale cuisine we had found the restaurant entirely by accident that night. Romilly ordered the aubergine en caton and I asked for the house specialty; carbonade d'ame perdu; an aromatic stew of caramelized meat cubes and white beans in white wine.

The waiter approached when we had finished.

“The chef would like to see you, M’sieur”

I went through to the kitchens to praise the chef’s wonderful cooking. When I finished he spoke.

“Unfortunately M’sieur, another guest has ordered the carbonade and we are fresh out of meat.”

With that he hefted his cleaver.

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Jim: der Blindganger

Carl pointed at a low cabinet. “Have you looked in there?”

“Twice,” Fritz mumbled. “It’s not there.”

“Look again!” Carl ordered. “You’re not the one who has to tell the boss that we lost the prime ingredient.”

Fritz shook his head wearily. “Why don’t we just do what we did last time? It’s not like the old man would know.”

Carl grinned. “Let’s use salt this time.”

On February 11, 1945, high in the Bavarian Alps, Germany tested its final atomic bomb. The bomb failed to explode. Interestingly, the bomb casing and mechanisms were immediately licked clean by wild sheep.

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Ted: Bedtime for Henrietta, aged Three

Stan looked all over the place. Pickles, the cat, was missing. Henrietta simply could not go to bed without Pickles. Henrietta loved Pickles. Daddy had to find Pickles, or she could never get to sleep.

So Stan kept looking.

He looked under her bed.

He looked in her closet.

He even looked under the couch, and the cushions of the couch.

In a fit of desperation, Stan opened the refrigerator door.

There was Pickles, the cat, sitting serenely on top of the dill pickles.

"Thanks Daddy, I forgot that he wanted to visit with the rest of his family."

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