A Book of Mediterranean Food

each plate, were served with the
tops knocked off. They had to be
wheedled therefore, not, as in the
West, from the snail’s own door,
but by an adroit twist of the fork
from above. Boniface, all those
around us, and even Evlogios from
his vantage-point, were so
concerned lest we should fail fully
to appreciate them, that we were
at pains to acquire the proper
motion. Delicious they were.
Meanwhile we drank as though it
was ten at night instead of in the
morning. All did the same. The
conviviality grew. We laughed and
shouted and toasted one another