“God, you look delicious, I must kill you and eat you” and ” That’s dreadful. How can we do this to living creatures, particularly one as handsome as you”. Could this be the crab talking, or is it the passing shopper. The hunter or the hunted. It may well be that the crab looks out from the comfort of his warm saline bath and is filled with sympathy for the queue of tutting, frustrated customers, or equally. thinks that they would be delicious if they were left under water for a bit, to soften them up and give them a bit of flavour. Would he be assuring other epicurean crabs that humans don’t feel any pain if they are drowned in warm water.I find it nigh on impossible to select, and indeed point to, the animal that I wish to have killed for my pleasure. Do cannibals pick the best looking subject, or the one that they like least? For all my love of good food, I am still an emotional fool when confronted with the living dish. We had gigot for lunch yesterday, and I haven’t been able to confront the sheep next door since then. [10 minutes later] That is not now true, as I just had a slice of cold lamb, and then went out to give them some lettuce and cereal bread. So whilst still chewing on a distant relation, there I was, chatting away to the two innocents. Does hunger separate the emotions or is it, as I suspect, just caprice?Thumbs up, thumbs down. The lunch with the gigot would have been quite as good without the gigot. Potatoes roasted in olive oil with rosemary, fantastic red cabbage, sticky haricot beans in goose fat and roasted shallots. This was followed by a green salad and a melting Brie de Meaux. To finish we had Nigel Slater’s Chocolate Apple Betty, from his book “Real Food”, which is unbelievably delicious, and confirms my recent conversion to, and present predilection for, breadcrumbs. The lamb was in fact “de trop”, but being a Sunday lunch a sacrifice had to be made. The bone will be given to the dog. Sic transit gloria.