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FeedThree Snipe & A New Year
Musings in the mud on mortality and more
By Vic Venters
There's not really any such thing as a snipe!" The young lady nicknamed Pickel was adamant.
"Of course there is," I insisted. "That's one there."
I pointed a serving fork at the platter. On it were three snipe-each carefully plucked, in the whole, and just off a hot grill. Pools of clear reddish juice beneath each revealed they were still pink on the bone. "Would you like one?"
"Uuck," she replied. Pickel was a vegetarian. By all accounts, she was in for a long night nibbling salad.
Every New Year's Eve my friend Chrish and his wife, Laurie, throw a dinner-party bash at their home in Raleigh, North Carolina.
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