I visited York over the weekend, with my rusty maid of all work Carmen. I sent a text message to a friend who lives in the area asking if he wants to meet up at Monks Cross, I got a reply back saying he couldn't as he was waiting in for a delivery, but he insisted that we go over to his place for a cup of tea. It was only a brief visit. Once seated in his living quarters, he came in carrying three cups of tea on a tray with Bourbon and Ginger Nut biscuits arranged artistically on a side plate, his little Yorkshire Terrier Judy yapping expectantly at his heel, I suspected the biscuits were supermarket's own brand, simply because he called his dog Judy and not Judith, well never mind about that, at least he remembered the doily this time. I thought the tea had an odd astringent taste to it, I didn't like to say anything in case he was using cheap tea bags, when I got the chance, I asked Carmen if her tea tasted strange, she said it was fine. Anyway, I drank it out of politeness like you do, well, there was no nearby plant for me to tip into so I had no other choice, when my host left the room to go and answer the door, he left firm instructions not to feed her no matter how much she begs and pleads, as she is getting fat, not taking a blind bit of notice, I took a Ginger Nut, broke it in two and tossed it in the air, Carmen's teeth snapped together as she caught it in mid air. Poor Judy never stood a chance. As I was nearing the end of my cup of tea, thank goodness! I felt something touch my lips, I tilted the dregs and saw to my horror, a chunk of onion in the bottom of the cup. This would never have happened in Harrogate.