"The smell doesn't so much creep up my nostrils as cosh them, a viciously warm mix of rotten fish, boiled meat, sulphur and shit." As one who grew up within nosing distance of a tripe works, this reviewer can tell you that Parker Bowles' description is spot on.
No one would expect a gastronomic tour of England to be unmitigated delight and this proves to be the case with Dewsbury's Ideal Tripe Works.
Fortunately, our voracious hero also encounters a host of robust pleasures, ranging from Birmingham's Balti Triangle to the Sportsman pub in Seasalter. This is a richly enjoyable defence of the world's most unfairly derided cuisine.