I'm getting ready to spend Christmas in Zimbabwe. Robbie has promised that there will be giraffes walking past the window on Christmas Day. I have no idea if he's pulling my leg or not, but I'll let you know as soon as I find out.
CHRISTMAS DAY MENU SPECIAL
LAKE PARADISE
Anchovies
Wild Buffalo Oxtail Soup
(with garden vegetables)
Wild Roast Turkey
(bustard)
Wild Mushroom Stuffing
Wild Asparagus Candied Sweet Potatoes
(Hollandaise Sauce)
Celery Hearts
Mixed Green Salad Water-Melon Preserves
Strawberries and Cream
Coffee
Nuts and Raisins
‘Osa, it’s wonderful!’ he cried. ‘Water-melon preserve, too!’
‘This beats that Christmas dinner we had in London. The Savoy hasn’t anything on you, Osa.’
We said no more but just pitched in and ate. I had never before been so proud of a table, and I had done it all from the jungle. When we had finished, Martin pushed back his chair and came over to my side of the table. He took my hand in his. I looked up at him. Neither of us could say a word. It was one of those times when no words could convey our feelings…
Osa Johnson, Four Years in Paradise, 1941.
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