Honestly, I’ve no idea why people complain about foie gras. The geese and ducks bloody love being fed, they run up to to have the grain shoved down their throats. I say ‘run’, perhaps ‘roll’ is more accurate
I am an terribly charming loony, supremely well-endowed with epidemiology and wine qualifications, who has finally found that severe PTSD, Generalised Anxiety Disorder and chronic psychosis are, on one of my all too rare good days, only a moderate impediment to having crazy fun with wine and food. Catch me outside and I am liable to be loudly attired.