A message to the ghost of Elizabeth Taylor: If you name your horse “The Pie,” you aren’t allowed to get upset when someone eats it. If you don’t want people killing and eating your horse, name it Sawdust or Archibald.
I would just eat this horse because I think it would be funny to whisper to the meat at a dinner party. Especially a that I hosted and didn’t tell people what was being served.
Me (whispering): I’m going to eat you. You’re going to be delicious.
Dinner Guest 1: What are you doing, Penn?
Me: Oh, I’m just doing a finny little play on ‘The Horse Whisperer’.
Dinner Guest 2: Why is that funny?
Me: Because it’s horse. We’re all eating horse.
Dinner Guest 3: Shut up.
*I continue to eat my food, smiling*
Dinner Guest 3: You’re disgusting. Why would you do that to us?
Me: You don’t like my food? Get the f#ck out of my house. GET OUT! And take this bottle of Malbec with you! It doesn’t complement the horse meat at all!
*heaves bottle at guest*
Hidalgo is often a title for Spanish royalty. I love Spanish food and expensive things, so this was a bit of a no-brainer. I would serve Hidalgo tapas-style in keeping with the Spanish theme. I would also serve him at a very late dinner, possibly at 11:30 PM, also in accordance with the Spaniards’ late dining hour.
Just because I’m the kind of guy that kills and eats horses doesn’t mean I don’t like to keep to a theme.