No one can resist parslied potatoes.
In London, when the pasty light of dawn had stained the ceiling above the curtain pole, he would listen with vampirish panic to the squealing and rumbling of distant juggernauts, and then to the nearby whining of a milkcart, and eventually to the slamming doors of cars bearing children to school, or real men to work in factories and banks.
Attempts to introduce versions of market communism — in China, Hungary or Yugoslavia — have shown how hard it is to make mainly state-owned economies as nimble as mainly private ones.
market communism
Here lie the secrets of keeping African lilies blooming on the terrace from June to frost, how to grow primroses from seed, and how to build a fence out of willow prunings over a trench planted with petits pois, those tiny peas Marie Antoinette cooked herself, we are told, “in a silver saucepan with her own butter.”
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