"Any goat eggs today?" I asked with mock anxiety, and a face to match.
Remy, the goat-cheese vendor at Leuven's morning market, wrung his hands. No, alas, he was fresh out of goat eggs.
A little girl, dismayed, tugged nervously at her mother's sleeve. Still, Remy had almost everything else I like, goat-wise, from goat sausage and goat bacon (both lovely, especially with sturdy red wine) to several kinds of fantastic chevre (goat's-milk cheese) made at his facility in eastern Flanders, Belgium.
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