In contemporary life, the horse is about as useful as a spade. Indeed, the spade has no life. It sits about in sheds with nothing to dig up. Why? As we have bloody bulldozers, forklift trucks, and combine harvesters to take care of that nonsense now. You don’t build a skyscraper with a bloody spade, do you? Imbecile!
Thusly, we applied the same logic to lasagne and the horse. Two disparate items, one common cause… we’re sure there is one, and we certainly can’t think of it right now. So, to speed up this epiphany we decided to let horses bake lasagne and this would allow us to make some money on the side. Plus, horses don’t really have much work these days so, yeah, making them chefs seems perfectly logical to us.
Okay, so we had to build and open an entire restaurant capable of housing horses for this one. That set us back a bit. As horses are, you know, large, it’s an extra big restaurant which has an enormous kitchen which is 4/5ths of the entire property.
Customers are expected to gravitate at the front of the building and talk politely amongst themselves whilst manual labourers clear a relentless stream of horse manure from the kitchen.
Once inside, they can bask in the glory of a 10ft by 10ft dining space. The lasagneighs are prepared by hoof, with our Head Chef Black (not in the burnt sense, dear foodies) Beauty patrolling the kitchens with a keen eye for detail and occasional need to alleviate himself in the tomato soup starter.
The other horse chefs prep the lasagneigh and, by the rules stipulated by us, must individually inspect the finished product and neigh all over it in agreement, thusly ensuring slobber and grit cover the food before it’s sent out to the pathetic humans waiting impatiently for their grub.
Numerous other people responded to this concept in such a way (sorry, neigh) when we first proposed it, but, dammit, sometimes one must follow one’s heart, and our collective hearts all said “lasagneigh” is a splendiferous idea! It turns out the general public doesn’t agree with this at all. What a bunch of goddamn snobs! Apparently, food created by horses is “unhygienic” and “gross” and “the type of thing Stalin would have done!”. What?!
Well, we have to resort to begging. Come to Manchester. Visit our restaurant. Please keep us in business!! We’ve got a special offer on to entice you, which is buy one lasagneigh, get a free horse ride. Thusly, you dine on the poorly made pasta-based dish at our restaurant, and then canter through the streets of Manchester until you’re attacked by some working class scumbag chavs. Then you go to the hospital to get your stomach pumped.
Ultimately, is the food tasty? Well, being horses and lacking opposable thumbs, they struggle to make the food look aesthetically pleasing. However, although your lasagneigh may look like vomit on a plate, it will, nonetheless, convince you that English food isn’t the best in the world. Now, that’s an accomplishment!