Gill said: "My chicken and ham pie was a disaster. I use the word in the gastronomic sense. It wasn't a disaster like an earthquake in Pakistan or the Black Death, but in its own dinner time, it was up there with the Thirty Years War. A sarcophagus of bone-dry, boiled and shredded ham ... Once the pastry was on, they'd forgotten to make it taste of anything, or give it liquidity. 'Sorry, mate' we've paved it over now. Can't dig it up again'."
Mrs W. tells the complaining kindies at school "You get what you get, and you don't get upset!" I guess that's one critic where his infants teachers' lessons didn't sink in.
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