the working man. tired from his hard days work craves something packed with fat and sugar. His choice is a plump white boys breast with fries. sourced rather carelessly from somewhere in the western world. the breast oozes hot blood, rich and sweet like a dessert wine and the meat is tender and easily digested.
now the man of taste and decency who doesnt commit himself to the vulgarities of manual labour prefers something more refined, a little acerbic. His choice is dessicated somalian rump of a starved child and the putrescent liver of an old nigerian woman. each ingredient sourced with rigour and coming with a certificate of authenticity.
the rump comes with the salty, leathery skin still on and the tough dry rump is contrasted with the rotting gloop of the decayed liver.