Sir:
I have resisted for some weeks the temptation to tell my own English muffin story, but feel unable to do so any longer. while studying in Cambridge, Massachusetts, I occasionally ate at a cafe run by a number of hyphenated-Americans who have origins ultimately traceable to Ireland. The customers, too, were mostly "Irishmen."
Inside the cafe communication was simple and direct. Order placed at a counter were relayed to a kitchen immediately in a loud voice. The efficiency of the system was further improved by the use of coded abbreviations by means of which, for example, a piece of apple tart with ice-cream emerged as, "Ice the apple."
It was, however, the coded order for two toasted English muffins which rarely failed to raise my English eyes from my food. Obviously, there was no inflaming, no provocative connotations in the cry "Burn two British," since the clatter of conversation continued without pause. No, if the cry evoked any visions at all it was of an act whose consummate justness was self-evident and required not even a smile The Manchester Guardian Weekly, April 24, 1958
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