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
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I think we all know which kind I prefer. though you need to re-resize the pic on the right so it’s not pixellated–ummm, just as a matter of professionalism, not bc I want to look at it or anything.
I must once again observe that the doddler is a unique brand of character who is perennially dissatisfied with the customs of whatever country he presently resides in but who has not resided in his own country (where, presumably, things are done better) for nearly two decades.
Doddler, please explain, your readership awaits……
Ah, to be whisked away to the fair climes of Down Under, where the signature meat pies are cloaked in…..Heinz Ketchup. Catsup, if you will.
Perhaps they should install some of those little dispensers like they have on liquor bottles, to dispense exactly one dram of chicken tikka masala sauce…..into the toilet where it belongs. I feel like chicken tonight, like chicken tonight……
That’s why you should always for for the Spag Bol. It’s England’s national dish! Perfect for a nation of snaggle-toothed gummers.
I’ve overused my dramatic elipse quotient….or have I?
James: I’m sorry about the pixelation. Blame that on The Sun, so you’ll have to search their website to satisfy your “professional” needs.
Anandamide: Hey – I only trying to fit in with Pommie culture by having a good whinge. But stay tuned for more positive reports on my new home…
Nah, stuff it! How much fun would that be?
Tim: You know, mentioning the liquor dispensors made me think: the size of the average liquor pour here is the exact opposite of the gravy – tiny. Go to an Indian restaurant and your chicken will be drowning in sauce and your gin in tonic.