Those saucy Poms
When it comes to sauciness, the Poms leave everyone else in the dust with a dry taste in their mouth. And I’m not just talking about the over-proportioned English lasses found on page 3 of The Sun. Nope – the creme de la creme of English sauciness comes from – where else – the English kitchen. No ladies, I’m not talking about Jamie Oliver either. I’m talking about good old fashioned, stick to yer ribs English gravy type sauce, which it seems it’s pretty much impossible to avoid. In fact, it’s pretty much impossible to get less than a gallon of the stuff whenever you eat over here.
Take the pork dish that a friend of mine ordered at The Bull the other night. The Bull’s a pub in Sonning that does pretty good up-market pub food, and the dish in question was tender pieces of pork in a roquefort cream sauce – pretty nice. But why the chef felt the need to demonstrate that pork doesn’t float in a vat of roquefort cream sauce is anyone’s guess. The thing is, you can’t escape the sauce in England. The pasta we had a few weeks ago tasted fine, but there was so much sauce dumped on top that you wondered why they even bothered with the pasta – just serve the sauce in a bowl and give me a spoon! It continues into dessert too – a recent example we eventually determined to be an apple crumble, once we’d dredged to the bottom of the bowl of custard. Any crumble that once existed had turned into, well, sauce thickener by the time we got to it.
Tonight I popped down to the local Waitrose to get some ready made Indian food. I felt like eating chicken tikka – marinated pieces of grilled chicken. But of course all I could find was chicken tikka fucking masala – chicken tikka drowned in a bloody sauce. Same thing around the corner in M&S. What’s the bloody problem with Chicken Tikka the way it’s meant to be served – dry? Do the English have a problem with their saliva glands? Maybe it’s a service to all the poms with dodgy teeth. Here’s what British Foreign Secretary, Robin Cook had to say about it:
“Chicken Tikka Massala is now a true British national dish, not only because it is the most popular, but because it is a perfect illustration of the way Britain absorbs and adapts external influences. Chicken Tikka is an Indian dish. The Massala sauce was added to satisfy the desire of British people to have their meat served in gravy.”
Perfect bloody illustration of how Britain, not satisfied with it’s own woeful kitchen, even manages to fuck up good foreign food if you ask me. English Sauce? I wish they’d banish it to page 3.
Filed under: England, cooking, culture, gravy, page 3, sauce, saucy, the sun | 4 Comments
They called him Honest John. At first it wasn’t ironic, but it became so. The man who lied that kids were being thrown into the sea by their parents, just to win votes. The man who said “never ever” to a consumption tax, and then “never ever” to raising it. The man who said no decision had yet been made to go to Iraq, even as he was happily being rogered by GWB and his VP Biggus Dickus. The list goes on and on…
Of course the publically funded and staunchly independent ABC in Australia did their best to expose him. What did Johnnie do? Tried to rip the guts out of the ABC of course! And when that wouldn’t work, he installed one of his shrillest fans, Jane Albrechtsen, to the ABC board. She who’s impartiality led her to say this.
So it’s about the sweetest irony of all, that Honest John not only loses the trust of the Australian public, but who becomes only the 2nd PM in Australian history to lose his own seat in an election, a seat that he’d held for 34 years. And who beat him? None other than former ABC presenter Maxine McKew. Onya Maxine.
Now all that’s left is to bid our former PM farewell. In the cherished words of Sir Elton John “Up Yours”:
Last words: Johnnie Howard, “toilet Hero”, that’s about right.
Filed under: australia, election, politics | 2 Comments
Tags: australia, election, elton john, honest, John Howard, liar, politics
An Apology…
While I was pulling my hair out in the Reading Borough Council Offices today, trying to convince some dimwit to do something for his wages, like , you know, think, I commented that the Council was even more devoid of talent than the English football team.
I take that back, and apologise unreservedly to the Reading Borough Council.
Filed under: England, Euro2008, culture, football, soccer, sport | 3 Comments
Tags: council, football, Reading, talent
European Tragics fight it out.
This Wednesday sees the conclusion of England’s Euro 2008 qualification quest. It will also be the conclusion of Russia’s. In what can only be described as a tragic-off: Russia vs. England. So which country is the more tragic?
Last Saturday, the stage was set, with Russia playing Israel and what they had to know was a marvelous chance to put past failures behind them. Italy is the home of tragedy, but in Opera, not football. For an outsider, watching Russia was like watching a masterpiece performance at the Teatro San Carlo, only this time the stage was the turf of the Ramat Gan Stadium in Tel Aviv, the frescoes replaced by a sea of light blue and white, though I doubt if Guus Hiddink saw things that way. When the Israel-Russia score was 1-1, I predicted that Russia would prove to be masters of tragedy. Confirmation came when they hit the post in the dying stages of the game, only to see Israel score at the last gasp. Russia, with so much tragic history, was looking good to become tragi-champions (tragions?) of Europe.
But what of England? The country that invented the game and apart from one moment of glory in 1966, has experienced so much pain and so little joy? Who has failed to finish better than 4th in any other World Cup, and who has not qualified or got past the 1st round in 8 European Championships out of the last 11? Who might be the only footballing country worse at penalties than the Dutch. For a fan of football tragedy, the prospect of this Wednesday’s game is mouth watering. Their performance against Austria on the weekend only raised the chances of yet more tragedy to come. What makes England so captivating is the press, one minute proclaiming their team world beaters, the next decrying their management, lack of talent, lack of discipline, or the latest object of blame: the number of foreigners in the Premier League. The last would bring a smile if there weren’t so many “experts” talking such drivel constantly on TV. I mean, English football was so fantastic back in the 80s when there was less foreign influence, wasn’t it?
What England lacks is having players in other leagues, a point that people were making years ago. Staying at home certainly doesn’t seem to help. Maybe David Beckam playing overseas is a good thing for English football. Maybe others should follow his example. All aboard for the MLS!
One thing is clear: Wednesday night will be one for the tragedy lovers. With both sides having such pedigree, this is the real contest, folks: The play off to crown the 2008 European Tragions.
Filed under: England, Euro2008, Russia, football, soccer, sport | 2 Comments
Tags: Croatia, England, Euro 2008, football, Russia, tragedy
The Pubs with No Beer
The maid’s gone all cranky and the cook’s acting queer
What a terrible place is a pub with no beer
- A Pub With No Beer. Written by Gordon Parsons and recorded by Slim Dusty
Slim probably never spent much time in a Gastro Pub, but I reckon he might have felt a bit awkward singing at one of the Crooked Billet’s music nights. Not that the Billet’s completely dry. It has one hell of a wine list. Quite a few good single malts too. And I suppose it does have two beers on tap: Brakspear’s Bitter and Guinness when I was there recently.
But there’s nothin’ so lonesome, so dull or so drear
Than to stand in the bar of a pub with no beer
That’s the problem. No bar.
Don’t get me wrong: The Crooked Billet’s a fantastic place to go for a bite to eat, maybe a glass of wine with some olives and pita on a summer evening. But a pub it is not. Surely a pub’s got to have a bar? And more than one real ale in a country that has so many good ones?
Never mind that the term “Gastro Pub” is so bloody awful. No problem with a pub that serves good food. But it should have a bar. And a selection of good beer.
Of course there are a huge bunch of so-called Gastro Pubs around now. Some of them have good food. Most of them aren’t pubs. Two that get it right in these parts are The Lamb and The Bull – good pub, good beer, good basic food. Ramsay’s got a decent pub (but c’mon mate – get yourself some proper glasses if you’re serving Belgian beer. Leffe Blonde from a pint glass FFS?) with an attached restaurant, but you’re still eating in a restaurant, not a pub (good food though – the Neeps mash sure had us by the short and curlies).
But most of these places are fucking awful. That’s the flip-side of the great English food revolution of the last 15 years: Now everyone thinks they can be the next Jamie Oliver. Face it: the average English pub cook hasn’t got the teeth to be a TV celeb chef, let alone the culinary skill. Asking them to cook you Gastro fare is like asking an American to shut up or an Australian to sober up – you end up feeling like you’ve been punched in the guts 50 times.
It’s enough to give you gastro.
Filed under: beer, cooking, culture, entertainment, food, travel | 2 Comments
Tags: beer, cooking, culture, drink, entertainment, food
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