Short follow up to Friday's post:
I was born into a world of ghee. Ghee! If somebody told the chefs at Akbars they were not allowed to use ghee, they'd probably kill themselves. Jesus Christ! There's a lot of ghee in an Akbars' meal; my balti was swimming in it; if a small child were to fall in, t'would never be seen again. I placed my knife in, to ascertain some kind of depth, and it completely disappeared, consumed by the grease, destined to roam the murky underworld for eternity, seeking the princess who could set him free (where have I gone with this?) The Naan bread was a victim too; covered, head to toe, in ghee; dripping in it.
All this ghee makes a young boy sick. I spent the night, head over toilet; I spent the next day degreasing toilet. Nothing to do with the whiskey of course. Oh no sir! All to do with ghee; the vast quantities of ghee; the disgusting, repulsive ghee.