One semitropical Fourth of July, Joe Queenan's English wife
suggested that the family might like a chicken vindaloo in lieu of
the customary barbecue. It was this pitiless act of gastronomic
cultural oppression, coupled with dread of the fearsome Christmas
pudding that awaited him for dessert, that inspired the author to
make a solitary pilgrimage to Great Britain.
Freed from the obligation to visit his wife's relations, as he had
done for the first twenty-six years of their marriage, Queenan
decided that he would not come back from Albion until he had
finally penetrated the limey heart of darkness.
The result is a very funny, picaresque adventure that will appeal
to anglophile and anglophobe alike.
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