Late in the summer, I visited my friend Lewis at his home in a village just outside Taunton, the county town of Somerset. He asked my advice about Toad in the Hole, a traditional British dish – he had tried to make it several times, he said, but he’d never been able to get the batter to set entirely. I thought about it for a moment, checked the amazing old cookbook he had laying around, and got to work. A couple of hours later, I had it – crunchy salty batter surrounding sweet British sausage, perfect for a comfortable meal with friends in front of the TV. I’m pleased to report that Lewis has now successfully recreated the recipe on his own. You see, I am occasionally effective.

As I worked, however, it occurred to me that Toad in the Hole is part of a wider family of foods. Of course, Yorkshire pudding, served with beef, is the same thing but without sausage – layered with gravy, the doughy starter used to serve as a sort of appetite suppressant for poorer farmers. But surprisingly, Toad is also a close cousin of a French food, the humble clafoutis. Those who bemoan British cuisine ought to remember that the connections between France and Britain are closer than they appear – I only need to mention the relationship between pork pies and pate en croute to make my point. As for the difference in quality, it’s not British cuisine’s fault that people aren’t careful in making it. The food, in theory, is good and honorable – and we should do our best to bring it back to glory.

Toad in the Hole

For the best results with your toad, make sure to buy good, butcher made sausages. Let them come to room temperature, and then fry slowly in a pan – Toad can be made with raw sausage as well, but just as a matter of aesthetics, if nothing else, I prefer them browned. While they’re frying, put together the batter. This consists of some plain flour, a few eggs, salt, an optional pinch of mustard powder, pepper, and enough milk to get a slightly thick, creamy batter. It’s a little looser than pancake batter, in my opinion, but thicker than single cream – it desperately needs to rise. Bring oil or pork fat to the smoking point in a deepish baking tray, and add the sausages and batter immediately – while the oil is hot. The batter should sizzle when it hits the pan. Return everything to a hot oven and let it puff up for 35 minutes or so, brown and glorious. Serve immediately, in great delicious slices.

Clafoutis

Clafoutis is generally made with black cherries, though pears, figs, raspberries, and even strawberries work as well. You can pit the cherries if you want, though in the most authentic versions I’ve eaten, the cherries were whole.

Make a similar batter to that of Toad in the Hole, but replace the salt and other savoury flavorings with sugar (or honey, in the case of a fig clafoutis). Taste the batter to see if it’s sweet enough – if nothing else, fear of salmonella ought to force you to buy fresh, free range eggs. Butter a baking tray generously, and toss the fruit in a bit (50g, or so) of sugar. Line the bottom of the tray with the fruit, make sure the oven is hot (350F or so) and add the batter. In about 35 minutes, you’ll have a perfect clafoutis. Let it cool slightly and then add generous shakings of powdered sugar to cover. You can serve the dessert either lukewarm or cool, with lashings of cream.

Like PG of De Novo, I too have had just one day of torts and already delved into the case of Hamontree v. Jenner.

Unlike PG, though, I side with her classmates in thinking that those who knowingly choose to drive while epileptic ought to be forced to internalize the huge costs they impose upon innocent people, in the rare event of an accident.

It is odd that PG does not think that the epileptic fellow had "far greater capacity to have prevented the injury than the plaintif(f) ha[d]." He, knowing he was subject to a recurring condition whose medication might be imperfect, could have chosen some other, less risky way of getting around. If he thought the benefits of driving were worth the risk, fine, but if he was going to make that call and reap the benefits, he should also reap the penalties when his gamble turns out badly. Otherwise he is playing dice with someone else's money.

PG also tells the tale of a poor lady who was killed when her drunk friend flipped their car over. This seems like a slightly tougher case. The article that PG links to leaves unclear one fact that is important-- at least for my own moral intuition, if not necessarily for the relevant tort law.

We are told that a sober driver, the drunk defendant, and the drunk deceased were all driving down the snowy road, with the drunk deceased (though she was alive then) "curled up" in the back. At some point the sober driver was tired and asked the drunk driver (BAC .23 when found after the accident) to take over. Was Bammer (that's the dead one) conscious at the time, and did she okay this move?

Whether tort law recognizes it or not (I shall probably find out) I think there ought to be an implied compact among those proceeding in a car together that if a driver is chosen with mutual consent and knowledge, that the driven won't sue the driver for unintentional accidents. A different default rule might discourage some folk from taking the wheel, even if they were the best driver at the moment. So did Bammer, lying drunk in the back of the car, gamble her own life, or did her friends gamble it for her? Important question.

In any case, while I disagree with PG about whether it is our place to second-guess the motivations of those who have valid tort claims (she says yes, I say no), I am also quite dubious about the notions of tribal justice that seem to inform this whole mess. Any wrongs that occurred were between two adults, and while the dead one may need her family to represent her where she cannot speak herself, punishing the parents of a 19-year-old for her shenanigans is misguided.

Oh, how I miss contracts!

After I complained about Dean Koh's use of the word "comprise," I received a commiserating email from a firm lawyer:

Almost no lawyer (or legal document) uses "comprise" (or its correlative, "compose") properly. This is a piece of knowledge you will have to abandon, since it's unlikely that either senior partners or clients will be interested in having you revise documents to get this item right.

Of course, there's still time to switch to another field of endeavor.