The word is the Bird.

Word is out that there’s a new bird in town… well, soon will be. And myself and a band of greedy bloggers were invited to an evening of moonshine – crunching on sauce slathered tasty bits, more booze and the gift given by beautiful free range clucky lovelies.

The venue was the new and spankingly hot Exeter Cookery School and our hosts were the brains, tastebuds, livers and gizzards behind Absurd Bird. They place where all chickens hope to end up, it’s true: once a hen has heard that they can be treated with respect, covered in spices and fancy dressings, painted like one of those French girls, sent off with side dishes so lip-smackingly tongue rangling, they cause whiplash as they pass tables of patrons with serious food envy. Apparently they automatically walk into the kitchen knowing they’ll be genuinely making carnivores happy. Beautiful.

The intent of this evening was to tantalise this bunch of hungry and thirsty mortals. So that we’d all hurry back to our laptops and face-sized phones, spreading the word about this new kid in town. Like we can be won over by delicious booze and moorish munch… Ahem… well, not me… don’t be absurd!

…heh heh heh (takes deep breath, sighs and prepares for onslaught of images).


Plied with cocktails and the history of their own moonshine.



Given gooey crunchables to lure us in… still not going with it… no really.


Baited with fried chicken bao buns. Obviously no response, deadpan, emotion free moment. #fail


Switched tactics with a zingy salad with more punch than Punchy McPunchfaces’ final punching routine at the Punch Town county fair.


They tried to get us to interact with a cooking competition, as you can see absolutely no involvment took place. All of those drinks failed.

*Disclaimer – sadly, a curious cucumber was lost to that big salad in the sky, when it tango’d to close to busy chop happy blogger.


Who knows who won the comp. All I know is that the sauce was delicious and plentiful!

The only thing absurd about that evening was that I didn’t have tummy room for every single deep fried, sauced up wing made that night. And that it went by all too quickly.

Kentucky fried who?            Exactly.


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