On Sunday morning I saw the landlady of a local pub park her car outside the pub. In the back of the car was a manky old duvet on which was resting a large hairy dog....and several trays of cooked Yorkshire puddings. The landlady & the dog went into the pub, leaving the Yorkshires to fester in the sunshine - for three hours.
That's one hostelry off my list of eating places.
But don't Yorkshire puddings start to deflate when you take them out of the oven, a bit like souffles? Are you sure it wasn't a Yorkshire terrier you saw, Mrs O?
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