Play with your food

Especially if it ever should look like this:

Key quote:

“There is something uniquely challenging to the modern palate about savoury jellies. It’s difficult to imagine how a whole chicken ‘chaud-froid’ (covered with a layer of aspic with cream creating the effect of a thick white condom) would go down in a modern restaurant setting. Oeufs en gelée, the great French bistro classic of poached eggs in aspic, is currently experiencing a bit of a revival yet the experience of biting through pork pie jelly into a warm yolk can be, to say the least, polarising to the British palate. When AA Gill tried one recently at Aqua Nueva it caused him to write the most horribly memorable line in the last decade of British restaurant criticism ” … it was like a big wine gum of pus, only not that nice.”

Immediately after that charming image, the Guardian cheerfully asks if perhaps there isn’t room for more aspic in our lives. Has anyone, ever, said, ah yes! The scones with the precious strawberry jam and the thick layers of clotted cream clearly needed a fun dash of gelatin! Oh, I have yearned for my mash to wiggle and attempt to flee the table, and for Toast and Soldiers to be an entertaining quest of quivering egg yolks and palpitating slivers of tortured bread!

Oh wait, you wanted fun, did you?

“The unusual foodstuff involves creamed cod-flavoured ice cream coated in vanilla and pepper batter, accompanied by potato ice cream chips made with Maris Piper potatoes, all served with salt and vinegar and lemon wedges.”

It’s either terrifying or genius. Trompe-l’œil and other fancy french terms, am I right? But seriously: the words “cod-flavoured ice cream” are enough to make going vegan sound like a reasonable reactionary response. Though the potato chip ice cream? Basically a complete meal! Totally genius!

Battle of the Crisps

Because I am distracted by a) glossy things, b) wacky flavours and c) sodium, I could not resist the lure of the WORLD CUP SERIES: NEW MASSACRES OF DELICIOUSNESS.

Yes. I tried the English Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding. In one casual, sly move, they increased the chances of this sucker winning by an astronomical amount with one simple addition: poultry stock. Yes, it’s true that something labeled as “beef” should probably contain “cow” or at least “red meat juices”. It’s also true that something labeled “cheeseburger” should probably not be vegetarian. Clearly, this was pandering to the homefield crowd, et c. et c. et c. Rogues! Scalliwags!

Anyway, it was kind of licking the outside of a Brisket cooked with Lipton’s Onion Dip packets. So, weirdly alluring, although I kept having this urge to wave a Terrible Towel around and seek out the traditional sour cream dip. The alluring lasted, I’m going to say, five seconds, and then my mouth was all “this was not a wise move, Barr,” and my tongue was all “if you don’t stop eating these, you’ll never love green papaya salad the same way again,” and so I was all, Right, Strange Patriotic Crisps, into the bin you go. BONUS your room will then smell like a Jewish Grandmother’s kitchen, if it was used to cook nothing but brisket for fifteen years.

HINT NOT A BONUS.

Though, props for the Brazilian salsa ones, because I am a glutton for punishment, and those ended up being a legitimate food item I would happily consume, even if remuneration to a store was involved. I had no idea rosemary was Brazilian but hey, since it didn’t involve “offal” or “the parts of the animals we didn’t use up in the German Bratwurst Insanity,” delicious! Totally delicious.

Stars and crisps

Exhibit A:

Yes. “Flavour.” Right there on the front of the MS Paint hack flag job.

Exhibit B:

Frankly, this is worrisome.

Exhibit C:

Maw of the beast: check.

Verdict:

Basically the chip equivalent of licking the extra Whopper sauce off the side of the greasy wrapper. Lingering taste of cheap gherkin relish with a smack of ketchup; same sensation of internal organs attempting to flee. Distinct lack of cheese, or, in fact, burger. Distinct lack of dripping, juicy center, though probably, that’s for the best.

Result:

Tempting plate of chips left out for unwary flatmates of the unAmerican persuasion.

I would take this as some kind of blatant international insult, except that the line also includes “German Bratwurst” and “Yorkshire pudding,” and I can’t imagine those are good even when horrifically drunk. Wait. Guinness Chips. Could one deep fry beer? Texas State Fair: for once, you have a mission.

Not wanted: this job

Yummy Yummy Italia in Burnley, northern England, launched the controversial pizza after owner Arash Fard, 33, visited London and saw frogs’ legs pizzas on the menu, local newspaper the Lancashire Telegraph reported.

The unusual meat toppings are bought from “alternative meats” supplier Kezie, which says the ingredients are ethically sourced from responsible farms.

Fard’s zebra creation is not his first time experimenting with ingredients. He told the Lancashire Telegraph that his range of buffalo, venison, kangaroo and crocodile pizzas were a big hit with customers since they went on sale earlier this year.

In this article, there isn’t a single word devoted to what zebra pizza actually tastes like.

Gift guide, take two

Just say no, part III:

America, what did we just learn? Bacon. Use the bacon, America.

If there’s somethin’ strange in your neighborhood, who ya gonna blame? JETLAG.

So, true story, I ended up across the globe again. I meant to tidy this up in the intervening months- maybe throw in some more homemade jetlag, bandy about words from that ol’ country called America.

But then I hit my thesis, or, more approximately, I was a frozen creampuff shivering in the tracks of an oncoming freight train laden with C-4 material.

You know. The usual difficulties of graduation and all that.

Anyway, a year later, I’m officially an M St. student at Oxford University, St Cross College, should it matter. There is a great deal of tea. Also brownies (?!). And marshmallows because the world has gone mad. Totally mad.

Educational:

A spot of education.

Forsooth.

En garde

Oh, world of wellies and flapjacks and tea and biscuits, by default. Everything seems normal. You know.

Because aliens invented the internet?

Just like this.

Best seat in town.

Oh, England. I don’t even have to lie back and think about you. You’re just so…British.

…or, whatever that is. Culture: because Ramen Noodles are a universal Bad Idea!

Economic woes have not yet hit bacon expert market; bangers holding steady and fish and chips connoisseurs worry

AA sniffs out Blighty’s best bacon sarnie

“  The Leeds experts, who toiled for 1,000 hours on 700 bacon sarnie variations, were finally able to offer this formula for hot sliced pork action: N = C + {fb (cm) . fb (tc)} + fb (Ts) + fc . ta, where N=force in Newtons required to break the cooked bacon, fb=function of the bacon type, fc=function of the condiment/filling effect, Ts=serving temperature, tc=cooking time, ta=time or duration of application of condiment/filling, cm=cooking method, C=Newtons required to break uncooked bacon.  “

(courtesy of The Register)

Baconophilia returns favor of the British Invasion; men in Scotland already drooling in preparation for the marriage of rashers and deep fried Mars Bars.

Pork futures?

Daıly cultural tıdbıt

Oh the other thıng that ıs decayed and gray around here ıs the boıled sheep’s skull cart. Fresh and hot! Now wıth teeth!

…yup. Thank heavens they only export baklava, ıs all I’m sayıng.