The Best / Worst thing I've ever eaten
Pinckas Ben Nochkan says: Tell us tales of student kitchen disasters and stories of dining decadence. B3ta Mods say: "Minge" does not a funny answer make
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 14:09)
Pinckas Ben Nochkan says: Tell us tales of student kitchen disasters and stories of dining decadence. B3ta Mods say: "Minge" does not a funny answer make
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 14:09)
This question is now closed.
back in the days of 1984 my dad and several of his friends
decided to have a beach bbq, we lived in lynton in north devon at the time so the sensible thing for me to do was to take my fishing gear and as i was probably the youngest member on the beach took my self of to the waters edge .
dad and friends had the bbq going wine and beer was going down like the titanic the sun was getting low and the mackerel had come in close to the shore, casting a string of feathers out past the shoal and trolling it back netted me 2 mackerel on the first pass and by the 4th pass i had a dozen or so .
from catching and gutting to cooking on the bbq was less than 5 mins , and since that day i have never tasted fish that good .
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 22:12, 4 replies)
decided to have a beach bbq, we lived in lynton in north devon at the time so the sensible thing for me to do was to take my fishing gear and as i was probably the youngest member on the beach took my self of to the waters edge .
dad and friends had the bbq going wine and beer was going down like the titanic the sun was getting low and the mackerel had come in close to the shore, casting a string of feathers out past the shoal and trolling it back netted me 2 mackerel on the first pass and by the 4th pass i had a dozen or so .
from catching and gutting to cooking on the bbq was less than 5 mins , and since that day i have never tasted fish that good .
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 22:12, 4 replies)
Fried egg sandwich #1
I had my first fried egg sandwich at about the age of 23, in a mates' place in Stratford E15. I'd never had one, don't know why, but he fried 'em up and dished 'em out and OHMYGODIHAVEDIEDANDGONEHEAVEN they were awesome.
I'm a bastard for them now, with HP on. Nom.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 22:09, Reply)
I had my first fried egg sandwich at about the age of 23, in a mates' place in Stratford E15. I'd never had one, don't know why, but he fried 'em up and dished 'em out and OHMYGODIHAVEDIEDANDGONEHEAVEN they were awesome.
I'm a bastard for them now, with HP on. Nom.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 22:09, Reply)
I had a Cognac
with the venom sac of an an asian cobra inside. It was part of a cobra feast we got at a thai restaurant my dad frequents. We ate some cobra meat(not much there) drank the blood(still warm, tasted like wine). The dessert was cognac, with the sac floating inside. It had been drained,slightly, and made me go really dizzy, felt like I was gonna pass out. It was good and horrible at the same time.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 22:02, Reply)
with the venom sac of an an asian cobra inside. It was part of a cobra feast we got at a thai restaurant my dad frequents. We ate some cobra meat(not much there) drank the blood(still warm, tasted like wine). The dessert was cognac, with the sac floating inside. It had been drained,slightly, and made me go really dizzy, felt like I was gonna pass out. It was good and horrible at the same time.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 22:02, Reply)
i had a BBQ peperami today
in my defence i was dizzy from immense hunger and had a headache, so i wasn't thinking straight.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 21:36, Reply)
in my defence i was dizzy from immense hunger and had a headache, so i wasn't thinking straight.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 21:36, Reply)
Norwegian salt fish
I was on holiday in Norway - a notoriously expensive place. We'd taken as much food with us as we could manage, but decided that for one night we'd blow our money on a traditional Norwegian dish: locally caught fish. In the local shop there was some fish in plastic packets: the name of it was in my travel guide - herring of some kind. So I bought enough for all of us, more or less bankrupting me.
Like I normally would at home, I dipped it in flour, fried it, and served it with flavoured rice. But it tasted like shit: so incredibly salty that none of us could stomach more than a mouthful. Turns out it was a Norwegian delicacy of salted herring, which is normally soaked in milk for some hours before eating. I'd blown my budget on something which should have been fantastic, and ruined it.
On the other hand, a few days later we were invited to someone's house to eat crab which had been caught just a few hours earlier: completely fantastic.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 21:22, 2 replies)
I was on holiday in Norway - a notoriously expensive place. We'd taken as much food with us as we could manage, but decided that for one night we'd blow our money on a traditional Norwegian dish: locally caught fish. In the local shop there was some fish in plastic packets: the name of it was in my travel guide - herring of some kind. So I bought enough for all of us, more or less bankrupting me.
Like I normally would at home, I dipped it in flour, fried it, and served it with flavoured rice. But it tasted like shit: so incredibly salty that none of us could stomach more than a mouthful. Turns out it was a Norwegian delicacy of salted herring, which is normally soaked in milk for some hours before eating. I'd blown my budget on something which should have been fantastic, and ruined it.
On the other hand, a few days later we were invited to someone's house to eat crab which had been caught just a few hours earlier: completely fantastic.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 21:22, 2 replies)
trickery
I used to make really delicious soup with pork dumplings, buckwheat, and bittermelon in college despite being on a highly restricted budget, but it was incredibly difficult to prevent inadvertent sharing with my housemates who were also quite hungry most of the time. Somehow, once I ended up naming the recipe 'diabetes soup' it stopped being so popular with everyone else.
Also- to anyone who says bittermelon is anything but extremely tasty, you are sadly mistaken and I am sorry for you.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 21:21, 1 reply)
I used to make really delicious soup with pork dumplings, buckwheat, and bittermelon in college despite being on a highly restricted budget, but it was incredibly difficult to prevent inadvertent sharing with my housemates who were also quite hungry most of the time. Somehow, once I ended up naming the recipe 'diabetes soup' it stopped being so popular with everyone else.
Also- to anyone who says bittermelon is anything but extremely tasty, you are sadly mistaken and I am sorry for you.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 21:21, 1 reply)
F'me...
Cod liver oil in malt extract is the taste of my childhood; the dark, depressing, catkin infested part of it, at least.
Whereas Olde English Spangles were the bright, jolly, autumnal trogging through crispy leaves aspect of my formative years.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 21:04, 2 replies)
Cod liver oil in malt extract is the taste of my childhood; the dark, depressing, catkin infested part of it, at least.
Whereas Olde English Spangles were the bright, jolly, autumnal trogging through crispy leaves aspect of my formative years.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 21:04, 2 replies)
Local Delicacies
There's a reason why The Pickled Hens Feet Bucket aren't found on every high street.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 21:03, Reply)
There's a reason why The Pickled Hens Feet Bucket aren't found on every high street.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 21:03, Reply)
I've had dozens of airline meals
Some of them have been reasonably tasty, with recognisable flavours. Most of them have been bland but inoffensive. Only one sticks in the mind as being utterly inedible.
It was late on New Year's Eve, and I was flying back to Blighty from Jesusland, courtesy of our fine friends at British Airways, enjoying an unexpected - and unrequested - "upgrade" to Peasant Class Plus with a slightly wider seat and no-one sitting next to me, and looking forward to a raucous, rowdy flight as we all saw in the New Year in well-inebriated style.
Instead, the cabin crew saw fit to limit the amount of booze being dished out to we filthy peasants in Peasant Class at the back of the bus, and plied us with liberal quantities of what I can only describe as savoury tapioca. Or semolina. Either way, it was the most disgusting "meal" it's ever been my displeasure to be served on an aeroplane. On reflection, it was even worse than the blini mentioned a few posts further down.
After we landed the purser apologised about the vile slops which had been originally intended for a pig farm but had been accidentally diverted to the airline caterers' kitchens.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 21:00, 1 reply)
Some of them have been reasonably tasty, with recognisable flavours. Most of them have been bland but inoffensive. Only one sticks in the mind as being utterly inedible.
It was late on New Year's Eve, and I was flying back to Blighty from Jesusland, courtesy of our fine friends at British Airways, enjoying an unexpected - and unrequested - "upgrade" to Peasant Class Plus with a slightly wider seat and no-one sitting next to me, and looking forward to a raucous, rowdy flight as we all saw in the New Year in well-inebriated style.
Instead, the cabin crew saw fit to limit the amount of booze being dished out to we filthy peasants in Peasant Class at the back of the bus, and plied us with liberal quantities of what I can only describe as savoury tapioca. Or semolina. Either way, it was the most disgusting "meal" it's ever been my displeasure to be served on an aeroplane. On reflection, it was even worse than the blini mentioned a few posts further down.
After we landed the purser apologised about the vile slops which had been originally intended for a pig farm but had been accidentally diverted to the airline caterers' kitchens.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 21:00, 1 reply)
Is anybody else waiting for Humpty to turn up with his "Surströmming" story again?
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:54, 5 replies)
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:54, 5 replies)
Insects and such
Good things:
Beef Wellington.
Silverloin steak
Rib eye steak
Kebabs. Yep, you heard me right.
Baaaad things:
Balut (google it)
Tarantula. Didn't taste bad, but did not gain spiderpowers
Scorpion. I spent the nest day doing scorpion burps. Yeuch.
Mum's home made egg custard. Sulphur in a bowl.
Mum's cabbage. Complete with caterpillars and their shits.
My own teeth.
Mud.
Immune system: Healthy
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:52, Reply)
Good things:
Beef Wellington.
Silverloin steak
Rib eye steak
Kebabs. Yep, you heard me right.
Baaaad things:
Balut (google it)
Tarantula. Didn't taste bad, but did not gain spiderpowers
Scorpion. I spent the nest day doing scorpion burps. Yeuch.
Mum's home made egg custard. Sulphur in a bowl.
Mum's cabbage. Complete with caterpillars and their shits.
My own teeth.
Mud.
Immune system: Healthy
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:52, Reply)
not exactly stewpendous
there is a tie for the worst thing i've ever eaten, between 2 things that both involve my brother.
the first one was a stale victory v sweet(remember those?) that had been stuck down the back of my grandad's couch for god knows how long. my brother found it and bet me 20p i wouldn't eat it. for a 6-year-old in 1980, that meant many penny sweets, so i ate it. my god, rancid just doesn't cover it. that methuselah sweet must have been there since before i was born, it tasted like(i'd imagine) licking a mummified scrotum. i spent ten minutes retching, my brother laughing like a helium-filled gibbon the whole time. bastard never gave me my 20p, either.
the second was again at my grandad's house, about 3 years later. mum and grandad had nipped out to the shops, leaving me and my brother alone to watch t.v.
we got hungry.
my brother decided that, as he was the oldest, it was up to him to make us both some lunch. he filled a very large pan halfway up with water, then added potato peelings, carrot peelings, a full loaf of unsliced bread, torn into chunks, a box of oxo cubes, a few apples and about a pound of salt. just as this vile hellbrew was coming up to the boil, mum and grandad came home. after seeing the state ofthe kitchen, mum decided that making us eat the frankenbroth we'd created would be a fitting punishment. i managed 2 spoonfuls before crying. all that salt made my mouth pucker like a cat's arsehole. i puked my guts up about half an hour later. mum was so upset at the result of her punishment that we both got a big bag of sweets.
didn't feel well enough to eat them for 2 days, though :(
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:52, 4 replies)
there is a tie for the worst thing i've ever eaten, between 2 things that both involve my brother.
the first one was a stale victory v sweet(remember those?) that had been stuck down the back of my grandad's couch for god knows how long. my brother found it and bet me 20p i wouldn't eat it. for a 6-year-old in 1980, that meant many penny sweets, so i ate it. my god, rancid just doesn't cover it. that methuselah sweet must have been there since before i was born, it tasted like(i'd imagine) licking a mummified scrotum. i spent ten minutes retching, my brother laughing like a helium-filled gibbon the whole time. bastard never gave me my 20p, either.
the second was again at my grandad's house, about 3 years later. mum and grandad had nipped out to the shops, leaving me and my brother alone to watch t.v.
we got hungry.
my brother decided that, as he was the oldest, it was up to him to make us both some lunch. he filled a very large pan halfway up with water, then added potato peelings, carrot peelings, a full loaf of unsliced bread, torn into chunks, a box of oxo cubes, a few apples and about a pound of salt. just as this vile hellbrew was coming up to the boil, mum and grandad came home. after seeing the state ofthe kitchen, mum decided that making us eat the frankenbroth we'd created would be a fitting punishment. i managed 2 spoonfuls before crying. all that salt made my mouth pucker like a cat's arsehole. i puked my guts up about half an hour later. mum was so upset at the result of her punishment that we both got a big bag of sweets.
didn't feel well enough to eat them for 2 days, though :(
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:52, 4 replies)
The worst meal, in one of the best places
1. It was supposed to be fried chicken. It looked like it - all crispy-brown and juicy-looking and fishy-smelling and... wait, what? If it was from a chicken, it was apparently a chicken fed only fishmeal and then fried in tuna oil. It smelled and tasted like every adolescent pudenda joke ever.
2. Black beans. Crunchy black beans. Oh, I'm sorry, it's not the beans that are crunchy, it's the SALT!! Sparkly with crystalline goodness, and an apparent perfect match for the poisson-poulet. Also makes a perfect emetic after the entree, to make room for pudding...
3. To this day I know not what it was, save that it must have nourished the baby Cthulhu after he devoured his mother. I think it was jellied vomit. Garnished with peeled lamb testes, in a sauce of mint, pine nuts, and hog semen.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:45, Reply)
1. It was supposed to be fried chicken. It looked like it - all crispy-brown and juicy-looking and fishy-smelling and... wait, what? If it was from a chicken, it was apparently a chicken fed only fishmeal and then fried in tuna oil. It smelled and tasted like every adolescent pudenda joke ever.
2. Black beans. Crunchy black beans. Oh, I'm sorry, it's not the beans that are crunchy, it's the SALT!! Sparkly with crystalline goodness, and an apparent perfect match for the poisson-poulet. Also makes a perfect emetic after the entree, to make room for pudding...
3. To this day I know not what it was, save that it must have nourished the baby Cthulhu after he devoured his mother. I think it was jellied vomit. Garnished with peeled lamb testes, in a sauce of mint, pine nuts, and hog semen.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:45, Reply)
Andouillette de Troyes
In a delightful French brasserie some years ago I was presented with a menu. Being an adventurous chap, my eye was drawn to the "Andouillette de Troyes AAAAA". Damn, with all those A's it must be the best thing on the menu! I asked a waiter what it was, and he replied that it was a type of sausage. Get in!
Une andouillette avec frites, s'il vous plait garcon. Et une biere grande, bien sur. Merci!
The dish arrived, accompanied by what can only be described as something of a farmyard smell. The first bite confirmed what I had suspected: the sausage smelled quite strongly of shite.
It was revolting. Like being force-fed a meaty fart from a fat Frenchman's sweaty arse crack.
I looked around expecting to see the waiter in fits of giggles, or the other patrons pointing and laughing. Not only was no-one paying me a blind bit of attention, the couple on the next table were wolfing down the same dish.
When I got back to the hotel I googled the offending article. Only the finest pig-colon sausage can be graded AAAAA (stands for Association Amicale des Amateurs d'Andouillette Authentique and is most certainly not a mark of quality).
Probably the second worst meal of my life, beaten only into the runner-up slot by a perfectly nice birthday meal, lovingly prepared by my girlfriend, which ended with gooseberry and broken glass fool.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:39, 3 replies)
In a delightful French brasserie some years ago I was presented with a menu. Being an adventurous chap, my eye was drawn to the "Andouillette de Troyes AAAAA". Damn, with all those A's it must be the best thing on the menu! I asked a waiter what it was, and he replied that it was a type of sausage. Get in!
Une andouillette avec frites, s'il vous plait garcon. Et une biere grande, bien sur. Merci!
The dish arrived, accompanied by what can only be described as something of a farmyard smell. The first bite confirmed what I had suspected: the sausage smelled quite strongly of shite.
It was revolting. Like being force-fed a meaty fart from a fat Frenchman's sweaty arse crack.
I looked around expecting to see the waiter in fits of giggles, or the other patrons pointing and laughing. Not only was no-one paying me a blind bit of attention, the couple on the next table were wolfing down the same dish.
When I got back to the hotel I googled the offending article. Only the finest pig-colon sausage can be graded AAAAA (stands for Association Amicale des Amateurs d'Andouillette Authentique and is most certainly not a mark of quality).
Probably the second worst meal of my life, beaten only into the runner-up slot by a perfectly nice birthday meal, lovingly prepared by my girlfriend, which ended with gooseberry and broken glass fool.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:39, 3 replies)
Blini
Or what I was told were blini, anyway. It was in a "Russian" restaurant in Imatra, near the Finno-Russian border.
Greasy dough parcels with some indeterminate greasy meat inside them.
Horrid, horrid things. I don't know if they were cooked properly or poorly, but I'm never trying another one again. I don't want to take the chance.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:38, 3 replies)
Or what I was told were blini, anyway. It was in a "Russian" restaurant in Imatra, near the Finno-Russian border.
Greasy dough parcels with some indeterminate greasy meat inside them.
Horrid, horrid things. I don't know if they were cooked properly or poorly, but I'm never trying another one again. I don't want to take the chance.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:38, 3 replies)
Imagine a huge doughnut with a savoury curried minced meat
they're called 'vetkoek' (pronounced 'Fat cock')
the best thing to come out of south africa since..... well, ever
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:14, 2 replies)
they're called 'vetkoek' (pronounced 'Fat cock')
the best thing to come out of south africa since..... well, ever
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:14, 2 replies)
loose change...
After recounting a tale of a friend baby brother eating a penny when little and having to get multiple x-rays to check the penny-progress until expelled, then his mother keeping it and putting it into a goldchain for the child's 18th birthday, local barman stated this was impossible. Drunkenly I flipped a 50 pence piece in air and swallowed it. Barman thought this was an ellaborate trick, and in my state I forgot about it. Week or so later, sitting on the pan reading paper I heard a "kerching" from the toilet. With the assistance of marigolds, I retrieved the 50 pence, went to the same pub, requested a pint and paid barman with money including the 50 pence. As he walked away I asked if he remembered me eating the coin, he said he still thought it was bullshit so I asked him if he didn't agree the 50 pence in his hand was one of the shiniest he'd ever seen, causing him to freak. This should have been the great ending of the tale except I told someone this story a few weeks ago and they didn't believe me either so I repeated the coin swallowing. No sign of anything yet... : (
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:04, 2 replies)
After recounting a tale of a friend baby brother eating a penny when little and having to get multiple x-rays to check the penny-progress until expelled, then his mother keeping it and putting it into a goldchain for the child's 18th birthday, local barman stated this was impossible. Drunkenly I flipped a 50 pence piece in air and swallowed it. Barman thought this was an ellaborate trick, and in my state I forgot about it. Week or so later, sitting on the pan reading paper I heard a "kerching" from the toilet. With the assistance of marigolds, I retrieved the 50 pence, went to the same pub, requested a pint and paid barman with money including the 50 pence. As he walked away I asked if he remembered me eating the coin, he said he still thought it was bullshit so I asked him if he didn't agree the 50 pence in his hand was one of the shiniest he'd ever seen, causing him to freak. This should have been the great ending of the tale except I told someone this story a few weeks ago and they didn't believe me either so I repeated the coin swallowing. No sign of anything yet... : (
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:04, 2 replies)
Vegemite
Looks like wheel bearing grease, and tastes like salty fungus. It makes you shiver. It smells like: I dunno - vegemite.
Looking at how I had plastered my toast, the Aussie waitress cautioned "you must use it sparingly!" But it was too late!
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:03, 6 replies)
Looks like wheel bearing grease, and tastes like salty fungus. It makes you shiver. It smells like: I dunno - vegemite.
Looking at how I had plastered my toast, the Aussie waitress cautioned "you must use it sparingly!" But it was too late!
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 20:03, 6 replies)
Woof!
Arf! Here boy! That's right, who's a tast... er.. good boy then?
When I'd found a job elsewhere and had decided to leave Korea I realised I had not yet tried the country's most famous snack and a group of us decided to give it a go. Leaving without having done so would have been a bit like going to Italy without sampling a pizza, or France without tasting a baguette.
So, taking the precaution of a few bevvies and with stomachs rumbling we headed off to the restaurant. Now the first thing that hits you upon entering the place was the stench of dead dog. Which was not good, but on the other hand, comforting to know they were still serving.
Somewhat disappointingly there was no menu from which to select the breed, cut etc so we had to make do with the set menu. Our starter in all fairness wasn't too bad - spicy dog soup. Hot and pungent, with succulent morsels of the catch of the day bobbing about. Managed about a third of it before what I was eating began to sink in.
Next course was a bit of a bad boy - steamed dog on the bone. Tasted a little like I would imagine bad lamb to. On a dog bone. I suppose it was payback time for all those bones the dog may or may not have been given during its happier days of not being eaten. The worst bit about the meal was getting a stringy piece of dog fat well and truly stuck in my teeth. This was for some reason soon accompanied by thoughts of Lassie bounding around a field doing rescue stuff. Not good.
The knowledge that the dogs usually have their mouths tied up and are basically beaten to death before being cooked did not lend much of a feel-good factor and dessert was skipped. Apparently more and more are now electrocuted in the interests of being a bit friendlier to the doggies, but they're probably not keen either way.
I can joke about it, though originally eating dog was born out of poverty, rather than preference I believe. Still, it is widely regarded by the older generation as very good for enhancing sexual stamina. Perhaps before the birth of Viagara this just had to do and was all chemists could prescribe. However, I would imagine butchering a pack of spaniels in the bathroom was probably a fuck sight harder to carry out surreptitiously than slyly popping a pill during the Ferrero Rochers in advance of treating the lucky lady.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:58, 4 replies)
Arf! Here boy! That's right, who's a tast... er.. good boy then?
When I'd found a job elsewhere and had decided to leave Korea I realised I had not yet tried the country's most famous snack and a group of us decided to give it a go. Leaving without having done so would have been a bit like going to Italy without sampling a pizza, or France without tasting a baguette.
So, taking the precaution of a few bevvies and with stomachs rumbling we headed off to the restaurant. Now the first thing that hits you upon entering the place was the stench of dead dog. Which was not good, but on the other hand, comforting to know they were still serving.
Somewhat disappointingly there was no menu from which to select the breed, cut etc so we had to make do with the set menu. Our starter in all fairness wasn't too bad - spicy dog soup. Hot and pungent, with succulent morsels of the catch of the day bobbing about. Managed about a third of it before what I was eating began to sink in.
Next course was a bit of a bad boy - steamed dog on the bone. Tasted a little like I would imagine bad lamb to. On a dog bone. I suppose it was payback time for all those bones the dog may or may not have been given during its happier days of not being eaten. The worst bit about the meal was getting a stringy piece of dog fat well and truly stuck in my teeth. This was for some reason soon accompanied by thoughts of Lassie bounding around a field doing rescue stuff. Not good.
The knowledge that the dogs usually have their mouths tied up and are basically beaten to death before being cooked did not lend much of a feel-good factor and dessert was skipped. Apparently more and more are now electrocuted in the interests of being a bit friendlier to the doggies, but they're probably not keen either way.
I can joke about it, though originally eating dog was born out of poverty, rather than preference I believe. Still, it is widely regarded by the older generation as very good for enhancing sexual stamina. Perhaps before the birth of Viagara this just had to do and was all chemists could prescribe. However, I would imagine butchering a pack of spaniels in the bathroom was probably a fuck sight harder to carry out surreptitiously than slyly popping a pill during the Ferrero Rochers in advance of treating the lucky lady.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:58, 4 replies)
Chinese herbs
You are meant to drink them of course, well the sieved remains of them anyway. But by god does it taste foul.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:54, Reply)
You are meant to drink them of course, well the sieved remains of them anyway. But by god does it taste foul.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:54, Reply)
Topical question, this one
If you live in France it's very hard not to be a foodie of some description, since the meat of the culture is richly marbled with the fat of drool-inducing recipes and good, fresh ingredients. Having to identify the single nicest thing I've ever eaten would be far too hard. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.
The worst one is easy, though.
A few months ago I went to China on business. The actual meetings lasted only a couple of days but I blagged some time off work and stayed for just under a week to do a bit of sightseeing. For the most part the hospitality was spot-on; in fact everywhere I went seemed to have an all-you-can-eat buffet laid on with deliciousness as far as the eye could see. One of the trays at one of the restaurant contained a dusting of little golden particles, fried in batter. I instantly thought of tempura vegetables, perhaps snow peas or some exotic Chinese legume unknown in the West, and helped myself to a generous spoonful. Once back at my table I took a generous chopstickful and savoured...
...gristle.
Pure, unapologetic gristle.
Apparently some people really like the way animal cartilage crunches between the teeth, but for me there's no faster train to Bokesville. Why some people choose to eat something with so little food value that many discerning pet food brands don't even include it in their produce is a mystery.
The same thing happened when I decided to try pig's trotters at home. I boiled them with carrots and onions for however many hours according to the recipe; I fried them until they were crispy; I even added herbs and spices. The cold, greasy reality was that they were just extruded blocks of fat, skin and gelatin, with less meat than Kate Moss's left arse-cheek. Note to food manufacturers: when you market meat products, please ensure there is meat in them. Thank you.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:48, Reply)
If you live in France it's very hard not to be a foodie of some description, since the meat of the culture is richly marbled with the fat of drool-inducing recipes and good, fresh ingredients. Having to identify the single nicest thing I've ever eaten would be far too hard. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.
The worst one is easy, though.
A few months ago I went to China on business. The actual meetings lasted only a couple of days but I blagged some time off work and stayed for just under a week to do a bit of sightseeing. For the most part the hospitality was spot-on; in fact everywhere I went seemed to have an all-you-can-eat buffet laid on with deliciousness as far as the eye could see. One of the trays at one of the restaurant contained a dusting of little golden particles, fried in batter. I instantly thought of tempura vegetables, perhaps snow peas or some exotic Chinese legume unknown in the West, and helped myself to a generous spoonful. Once back at my table I took a generous chopstickful and savoured...
...gristle.
Pure, unapologetic gristle.
Apparently some people really like the way animal cartilage crunches between the teeth, but for me there's no faster train to Bokesville. Why some people choose to eat something with so little food value that many discerning pet food brands don't even include it in their produce is a mystery.
The same thing happened when I decided to try pig's trotters at home. I boiled them with carrots and onions for however many hours according to the recipe; I fried them until they were crispy; I even added herbs and spices. The cold, greasy reality was that they were just extruded blocks of fat, skin and gelatin, with less meat than Kate Moss's left arse-cheek. Note to food manufacturers: when you market meat products, please ensure there is meat in them. Thank you.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:48, Reply)
My mum had the knack of turning things that should be Gorgeous into things that made you gag.
Not because she used bad ingredients or just boiled/burnt everything to a charcoal-y mush but because she had Aspirational Ideas. Bloody Waitrose and their magazines for ordinary folks pretending to be middle class.
'Spiced Beef Mince'- sounds like a nice idea- what spice? Chilli? Paprika? No- ginger and nutmeg and aniseed and cloves...ukkk! Maybe if it was lamb I might have suspected Morroccan influences but this should have had more in common with mulled wine...
Chicken with thyme stuffing sounded alright but thanks to the new fangled Microwave Cook Book it was done in the nuclear oven (doesn't end up with dry meat it claimed) and so never browned or crisped or reduced the fluids that bubbled away under its skin. Net result, no delicious crispy skin and 'wet' grey meat. Vom.
Pork mince Bolognese with half-bay leaves scattered throughout... chewy, meat-tasteless and bitter. The runny puddle of fluid left to trickle about the base of the mound of minced squash ball texture meat was like the plasma you get left with after centrifuging the red blood cells our of whole blood.
Lamb casserole made with neck cuts, with the white rubbery spinal cord visible through the vertebrae that you had to pick meat off if you wanted to get any protein.
Plain leeks cooked in a pressure cooker, fine. Then ruin them by sprinking nutmeg along their length. WRONG!
Fish and chips? ooh YES PLEASE. Oh hang on, fish not in batter but poached in milk (and a greasy slick of fishy oil sitting on top) and no chips but string beans with the strings so tense they could be used to knit together for a bowstring, made you gag as you attempted to swallow.
Asparagus soup that I plain refused to eat and she wouldn't let me leave the table until I'd finished it. Cue a 4 hour afternoon sitting looking at it not get any more delicious as it cooled and solidified.
Rice pudding? ooh yes. But with Basmati rice, skimmed milk and gelatine. I've seen less firm silicone sealant used for bathroom tile sealing. Ugh.
At one point and utterly pissed off with hearing the expression 'Urrrrrr!' at the dinner table, mum suggested we supply her wth a two-week alternating menu that we would accept without complaint. Mine consisted of a lot of 'ham or cheese sandwiches' as I assumed it would be impossible to fuck those things up. She refused as that was 'not cooking at all'.
Best food evah?
Butterscotch instant whip.
Which only attained mythical status because we were not allowed it because of its common appeal and adverts for it on ITV, which were were also forbidden, made us ask all the more.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:48, 4 replies)
Not because she used bad ingredients or just boiled/burnt everything to a charcoal-y mush but because she had Aspirational Ideas. Bloody Waitrose and their magazines for ordinary folks pretending to be middle class.
'Spiced Beef Mince'- sounds like a nice idea- what spice? Chilli? Paprika? No- ginger and nutmeg and aniseed and cloves...ukkk! Maybe if it was lamb I might have suspected Morroccan influences but this should have had more in common with mulled wine...
Chicken with thyme stuffing sounded alright but thanks to the new fangled Microwave Cook Book it was done in the nuclear oven (doesn't end up with dry meat it claimed) and so never browned or crisped or reduced the fluids that bubbled away under its skin. Net result, no delicious crispy skin and 'wet' grey meat. Vom.
Pork mince Bolognese with half-bay leaves scattered throughout... chewy, meat-tasteless and bitter. The runny puddle of fluid left to trickle about the base of the mound of minced squash ball texture meat was like the plasma you get left with after centrifuging the red blood cells our of whole blood.
Lamb casserole made with neck cuts, with the white rubbery spinal cord visible through the vertebrae that you had to pick meat off if you wanted to get any protein.
Plain leeks cooked in a pressure cooker, fine. Then ruin them by sprinking nutmeg along their length. WRONG!
Fish and chips? ooh YES PLEASE. Oh hang on, fish not in batter but poached in milk (and a greasy slick of fishy oil sitting on top) and no chips but string beans with the strings so tense they could be used to knit together for a bowstring, made you gag as you attempted to swallow.
Asparagus soup that I plain refused to eat and she wouldn't let me leave the table until I'd finished it. Cue a 4 hour afternoon sitting looking at it not get any more delicious as it cooled and solidified.
Rice pudding? ooh yes. But with Basmati rice, skimmed milk and gelatine. I've seen less firm silicone sealant used for bathroom tile sealing. Ugh.
At one point and utterly pissed off with hearing the expression 'Urrrrrr!' at the dinner table, mum suggested we supply her wth a two-week alternating menu that we would accept without complaint. Mine consisted of a lot of 'ham or cheese sandwiches' as I assumed it would be impossible to fuck those things up. She refused as that was 'not cooking at all'.
Best food evah?
Butterscotch instant whip.
Which only attained mythical status because we were not allowed it because of its common appeal and adverts for it on ITV, which were were also forbidden, made us ask all the more.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:48, 4 replies)
Best thing?
Gelder's mince pie, battered, in between two slices of bread, with loads of HP sauce.
Worst thing? It's a toss up between two things.
1) A bar of soap that me and a friend microwaved. It bubbled up and looked like the middle of an Aero. So we licked it. It didn't taste like an Aero. It tasted like soap.
2) A large piece of a Coca Cola glass. Not only did it not taste like Coca Cola but it cut the inside of my mouth to shreds.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:46, Reply)
Gelder's mince pie, battered, in between two slices of bread, with loads of HP sauce.
Worst thing? It's a toss up between two things.
1) A bar of soap that me and a friend microwaved. It bubbled up and looked like the middle of an Aero. So we licked it. It didn't taste like an Aero. It tasted like soap.
2) A large piece of a Coca Cola glass. Not only did it not taste like Coca Cola but it cut the inside of my mouth to shreds.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:46, Reply)
Oh the bovinity!
Veal, not free-range or rose, but proper calf-crated anaemic European stuff after about a decade of habitual vegetarianism. It was actually very tasty if I kept thinking of it as a funny sort of pork.
And Tesco's own gluten-free sausages, which really were a funny sort of pork. I think the texture could be best described as pre-chewed.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:42, Reply)
Veal, not free-range or rose, but proper calf-crated anaemic European stuff after about a decade of habitual vegetarianism. It was actually very tasty if I kept thinking of it as a funny sort of pork.
And Tesco's own gluten-free sausages, which really were a funny sort of pork. I think the texture could be best described as pre-chewed.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:42, Reply)
Hmm. .
Best thing I've ever eaten would be the Meat and Potato pies from a Stafford bakery whose name escapes me. Long gone, sadly.
Worst? The kebab I had from the Anatalya Kebab House in Nottingham. Cold, greasy and apparently made from scabby Albanian goat arseholes. As pissed as I was, I still couldn't eat it.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:34, 1 reply)
Best thing I've ever eaten would be the Meat and Potato pies from a Stafford bakery whose name escapes me. Long gone, sadly.
Worst? The kebab I had from the Anatalya Kebab House in Nottingham. Cold, greasy and apparently made from scabby Albanian goat arseholes. As pissed as I was, I still couldn't eat it.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:34, 1 reply)
Sushi
I just made some sushi. It was yummy and far superior to those little overpriced packs you get in Tesco.
However, it was the first time I'd served it with wasabi, and I underestimated the potency.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:21, 4 replies)
I just made some sushi. It was yummy and far superior to those little overpriced packs you get in Tesco.
However, it was the first time I'd served it with wasabi, and I underestimated the potency.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:21, 4 replies)
Dog
No, not like that. My dog, Heinz, is Ace! Hes a mongrel, from a rescue centre. He was raised with lots of BIG dogs (Dobermans, Alsatians etc) and we think thats why he used to scoff any shit (literally) he came across; his own, other dogs, horse shit, you name it hed scoff it. It was probably the only food he got! Anyway, he soon stopped this and is generally pretty good now. Excepta few days back we were walking him, he was snuffling around. Suddenly, Kite Jr begins to wail, and points; I turn, and see Heinz wolfing down a dead rat; in one piece. Ugh.
The next morning Im up at 6, pottering about prior to going to work. Heainz runs out and has a shit. Rather than a nice sausage we get a HUGE mound of soft poo, topped with a huge streak of slime. Im boking. I get a nappy bag and go to pick it up but 1) it's too big and 2) theres a solid lump in there. I boke again. Finally, I manage to scrape the offensive mass into a carrier bag and sluice the yard down with bleach.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:18, Reply)
No, not like that. My dog, Heinz, is Ace! Hes a mongrel, from a rescue centre. He was raised with lots of BIG dogs (Dobermans, Alsatians etc) and we think thats why he used to scoff any shit (literally) he came across; his own, other dogs, horse shit, you name it hed scoff it. It was probably the only food he got! Anyway, he soon stopped this and is generally pretty good now. Excepta few days back we were walking him, he was snuffling around. Suddenly, Kite Jr begins to wail, and points; I turn, and see Heinz wolfing down a dead rat; in one piece. Ugh.
The next morning Im up at 6, pottering about prior to going to work. Heainz runs out and has a shit. Rather than a nice sausage we get a HUGE mound of soft poo, topped with a huge streak of slime. Im boking. I get a nappy bag and go to pick it up but 1) it's too big and 2) theres a solid lump in there. I boke again. Finally, I manage to scrape the offensive mass into a carrier bag and sluice the yard down with bleach.
( , Thu 26 May 2011, 19:18, Reply)
This question is now closed.