Liebe schmeckt wie Kaviar

Some of you might recall this line from one of the (not quite) recommended titles from this post. It means "love tastes like caviar" (or at least I think it does). But then again, "Love is only any good when it hurts" (For 200 points, which misician was that from?), and caviar... I suppose something is very wrong when caviar hurts. And just what is all this talk about caviar all about? Patience! I'm getting to it! Since when do I tolerate you to be so pushy!?
I had never really enjoied caviar before, but then again, I don't think I had ever had propper caviar before. At any rate, it's not my fault. Do you know what kind of stuff gets peddled around as caviar? Ever had some very fine, pitch black roe from a tin labeled "Caviar"? In all probability, that wasn't caviar at all. Actual caviar, I'll have you know, doesn't need to be pitch black or very small eggs. Caviar can be grey, brownish and even reddish in colour and each individual egg can be anywhere from as small as one millimeter in diameter to as large as a pea. And don't you go buying Beluga caviar (unless you're in Russia, in which case I envy you), because you're lucky if that's even caviar at all. And I'm nowhere closer to making a point, but you know what, that's the beauty of being the blogger around here. My blog, my rules.
Me, I've just had some real osetra caviar, brouhgt by a beloved relative from a vacation in Russia, and, my, I can't believe I've waited this long to get my hands (and my taste buds) on the stuff. I've just split a tiny jar of it with... erm... never you mind who I split it with... and I'm almost glad it was such a tiny portion, otherwise I'd be hooked on it by now. Whoosh!

Pax vobiscum atque vale.

ArabianShark is very seriously considering a trip to the Caspian Sea to look for some Russian sturgeon. Not to eat it, mind you, but the roe...

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