“I raise my own turkeys, you know.” Gordon Ramsay has opened the 1942 Petrus and it’s making him exactly as voluble as he normally is.
Tell him you’d heard that. Aren’t they named after his rivals?
“Oh, yes, in 2005. I’m afraid they’re long since dead and eaten now. As are four of their namesakes.”
Isn’t that curious!
“They swabbed my knives for DNA every time,” chuckles Gordon Ramsay. “As if any chef would waste a good knife on a stabbing.”
Tell him that’s reassuring.
“No,” he replies, “a little hatchet works just as well,” and buries it in your neck.