Three pounds of veal my darling girl prepares, And chops it nicely into little squares; Five onions next procures the little minx (The biggest are the best, her Samiwel thinks), And Epping butter nearly half a pound, And stews them in a pan until they’re brown’d. What’s next my dexterous little girl will do? She pops the meat into the savoury stew, With curry-powder table-spoonfuls three, And milk a pint (the richest that may be), And, when the dish has stewed for half an hour, A lemon’s ready juice she’ll o’er it pour. Then, bless her! Then she gives the luscious pot A very gentle boil – and serves quite hot. PS – Beef, mutton, rabbit, if you wish, Lobsters, or prawns, or any kind fish, Are fit to make a CURRY. ‘Tis, when done, A dish for Emperors to feed upon. William Makepeace Thackeray's Poem to Curry, 1846 - which sounds much tastier than the lacklustre Waitrose readymeal I've just had for dinner. (Blogger still baulking at paragraphs! Why?????)