Last month, I attended the International Chicken Gastronomy Festival in Twickenham. There was some questioning as to why I would want to spend my weekend gorging on fried chicken. None more so than from my significant other, a vegetarian. Part of the reason for this life choice (so she tells me) is that she once owned three pet chickens, Little Ginge, Gonzo and Mabel, who met their natural end in the food chain: being eaten by a fox. Despite becoming a cheap option on the high street, chicken is also the trendiest ROOST, as the event is known, is devoted to celebrating the humble chicken in all its fried, saucy and increasingly elaborate forms - ‘bird cookery without borders’.