About 15 or so years ago I received a very polite letter from Belgium asking me to list three of the most pompous and self-important people in the UK. It came with a self-addressed return envelope and stamp. The writer was known to me as ‘l’entarteur’, a man who would approach the pompous and vainglorious and shove a pie in their face. He would never insult the victims nor use foul language — in fact, he always remained silent — and he assured me in his letter that he used only the finest ingredients and very fresh milk.
The first name which came to mind was Edward Heath but almost immediately I took it off the list. Heath was too bloated, his face too red, and the last thing I wished was for him to have a stroke while covered with a lemon meringue pie. ‘L’entarteur’ agreed and we started a lively correspondence. One of the candidates I submitted was not a Brit, but an Algerian-born Frog, Bernard-Henri Lévy, whom my Belgian buddy had already covered with pies on at least three occasions. Four is a good round number, suggested yours truly.
One month later, in Nice airport, Lévy got blasted like never before. The pie was giant size and the cream literally made him look like the Yeti as he fumbled around and screamed bloody murder. Then les gendarmes interfered and arrested my friend, who offered no resistance. One thing the onlookers noticed was that the fuzz had trouble making the arrest because they were laughing so hard. Led in front of a judge my NBF promised he would no longer throw pies at BHL, as the pompous Lévy is known in the land of cheese, and he was let off with a fine for disturbing the peace. We lost touch with each other after that.
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