Umbajay
When me and my mates were 16 and full of vigour we used to have a middle of the week drinking club, to alleviate the tedium of school. So every Wednesday night we would head to my mates house, and have an umbajay. This was similar to a 'lethal' whereby portions of different spirits were mixed together. We included a bit of beer and made up a nice bowlful. We would then take it in turns to place a colander on our heads, pick up the bowl and take a glug.

Then you had to brew up a massive greenie and flob it into the mix and shout Umbajay.

And pass.

The game did not end until the whole concoction was gone, and believe me it got lumpy towards to bottom.

The defining moment was one of my bearded mates having one of the last glugs, looking at us with several people's phlegm clinging to his face hair, saying 'It's not too bad this'.

Yes, yes it was, but yet so so good.
(RickGrimes Quite frankly, disappointed on, Thu 17 May 2007, 11:30, Reply)

not me, but perhaps Papa Chocolat,

whose message to me inspired my last entry, can fill us in on the taste of humble pie?
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Thu 17 May 2007, 11:26, Reply)

rock and (a stale bit of ) roll.
I was on tour with a not very good or famous band in darkest Vienna. We got locked in a punk rock squat for the night, very hungry and "not very tired".
We had an empty pea nut tin. a tiny candle. 1 lump of garlic, some margarine and a piece of stale bread.
45 minutes later... garlic bread for eight !
(John Elton, Thu 17 May 2007, 11:24, Reply)

Once more with feeling
At the same guys house as the last post, i wasn't there but the story was retailed to me with great gusto.

During a night with the lads, one of them asks for a coffee. Pfft.

So, they made him one.

Said coffee contained sugar, water, milk, coffee granules

dust from on top of the telly, chilli sauce, a bit of flour and pretty much a little bit of whatever was in the cupboard (including probably a bit of the cupboard).

Anyway, somehow the guy drinks it all. even complimenting it. good laugh all round from the lads.

Hah, lovely story would end here, right?

The plan backfired. during the night, Coffee boy had managed to steal the bed of the guy who lived there. cue not feeling well followed by Dihorrea attack all over the sheets.

must have been too much sugar.
(Lordfudgington is hiding the expense report filed on, Thu 17 May 2007, 11:22, Reply)

after a heavy session on the pipe
I could feel a serious attack of the munchies coming on. I hadn't eaten all day and until then I was feeling fine.


I started on a packet of M&M's, only to feel unsatisfied. I ended up eating thirty six (36) bags of walkers crisps. thats an entire catering sized box.

When I woke up the next morning (around 3pm) I was still feeling light headed and had to hold back some very salty vomit. When I saw that the entire floor was coated in crisp packets and the air was thick with cheese and onion flavouring.

Now I can no longer eat walkers crisps without feeling ill.
( willenium Fist bump for verification, Thu 17 May 2007, 11:22, Reply)

well,
I ate a cigarette once, bleagh.

Remember coming back from a rugby game once at school this bloke called Saf was complaining that he was hungry, so someone gave him a sandwich from his kitbag.

It took him until the 4th bite to notice that the sandwich was green . . . with interesting patches of white and brown mouldy splodges!
(Halfy By light alone, Thu 17 May 2007, 11:19, Reply)

Hmmmm...
Eaten a fair few odd things, but this is my favourite story. It involves me and a mate, on our travels, in Africa:

"The meat in this stew is a bit tough, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I think so too. It's probably goat."
"Shall we ask the bloke?"
"Yeah, why not? Excuse me mate, what's the meat in this stew?"
"Cat."
"What?"
"Cat."
"As in?"- points to a picture of a cat on the wall.
"Yes."
"Oh."
Funnily enough we went off it after that. I have to say we had some degree of culpability though: Walking past the place in the light the following day we discovered it was called the 'Catometo' Bar.
(spangledonkey I've got a mouse. His name is Gerald., Thu 17 May 2007, 11:17, Reply)

Bastards
at a party about a month back, my mate had a fridge full of mouldy food (no lie- the cheese was mouldy, chicken was mouldy... im supprised the lightbulb wasn't mouldy). so rather than experiment with the various life forms on display for their medicinal / hallucenogenic effects, we went to the shop and bought the classic fail-safe, idiot proof super noodles. starving, having eaten naught but a sandwhich all day, and having drank a few plastic cups of wine (we're sophisticated that way - wine!) i was ready to eat. trusting the others with the cooking, i played xbox for a bit. about 10 minutes later they come upstairs saying "...erm... theres been a bit of an accident". They had turned the supernoodles blue. i politely enquired how they had made this spectacular fuck up, to shakes of heads and "dunno"'s. Bastards. So, to compensate, i drunkenly raided the cupboards. i managed to find oats, butter and golden syrup. so, we attempted to make flapjacks. someone thought it was a good idea to put blue food colouring in the mix. incidently, thats why the supernoodles were blue, didn't want me having any so they turned them blue. anyway, cue giggling at our blue mixture, and the butter we had managed to turn blue for the guys mum to find when she gets back, we bunged it on a tray and into the oven.

What we wanted was Flapjacks

What we got resembled Smurf Genocide.
Didn't taste too bad, but neither do kebab scraps on the floor with enough drink.

we left it for him to find in the morning :)

Top off a top night by the guys pissing cat jumping on me for a cuddle at 6 in the fucking morning after a couple hours sleep.

Click "i like this" if you think cats are completely crap animals
(Lordfudgington is hiding the expense report filed on, Thu 17 May 2007, 11:12, Reply)

Post war austerity?
When you're a kid, dessert is the bit you look forward to. Not when visiting my gran (whose funeral I told you about here) She had a way of making rice pudding that involved cooking it in a pan until ready to eat, but then baking it in the oven until it was rock hard with a leathery skin on the surface. But that was nothing compared to her jelly made with milk instead of water, which she would slop out onto your bowl in the mistaken belief that she was serving you a special treat.

Now, I know she probably learned to cook during WWII, but 30 years later she might have picked up a recipe or two
(lolwhites, Thu 17 May 2007, 11:12, Reply)

Oh and whilst I'm here
I ate a trip in my final year of uni that I really wish I hadn't *

*as I crawled around my room's carpet hearing static in my head.

Still, put hairs on my chest
(RickGrimes Quite frankly, disappointed on, Thu 17 May 2007, 11:08, Reply)

A nice big
Dog shit sandwich.

Tasted o.k, took some flossing afterwards mind.
(RickGrimes Quite frankly, disappointed on, Thu 17 May 2007, 11:06, Reply)

cup of tea with lots of salt
This was something provided to a stoned mate whilst I was out of the room as a joke.

I came back in the room to find something odd going on. Seb, the victim, was standing looking mildly puzzled in the middle of the room (I suspect he is autistic. no one can be so clever and talented and retarded and clumsy at the same time)

He passed me his mug and said "does this taste salty?".

cue the gestures and looks from the pranksters behind him.

I took a swig of the most revoltingly salty mug of tea that ever was, and somehow managing to keep a straight face replied that it was fine.

he turned away and I had to leave the room for retching purposes.

grim
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Thu 17 May 2007, 11:05, Reply)

I'm on a roll now
(no pun intended)

In Greece for the first time on a conference, I encountered real Greek cuisine. I don't mind it, except for all the bloody olives, but we were served one thing which looked like a bridie* filled with grass clippings.

Tasted OK though.

* For those non-Scots, a bridie is a bit like a pasty, but with a different geometry. It's a circle of pastry, filled with meat, then folded into a semicircle and cooked.
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Thu 17 May 2007, 11:01, Reply)

Barbecued pizza
When Inter-Railing round Europe in 1991 with a couple of mates, we were in Vienna one night. We went to the local Konsum supermarket and purchased a frozen pizza for dinner.

On returning to the youth hostel we discovered the cooker in the kitchen was out of order. The only cooking facility was an electric barbecue in the courtyard. So gamely we wrapped our frozen pizza in tinfoil and placed it on the barbie. A bit later we unwrapped it to find one side was like coal and the other was still frozen.

We ate it anyway. It provided nourishment, if not enjoyment, but after 3 weeks of living on stale bread and mouldy cheese, we were well used to it.
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Thu 17 May 2007, 10:53, Reply)

Bean sprouts
One of the research groups here used to have theme nights, in which everyone would take along food, usually from a particular country or style of cuisine, and have a nosh up. As is the nature of scientific research we have people from all over the world, which meant the variety of food was tremendous.

Anyhow, a few years back my mate Gary had been to one of these nights, and taken along bean sprouts and the like in a Tupperware tub. The next day, one of the students handed back his tub. Gary put it away in his office and thought nothing of it.

Two weeks or so passed. I was in Gary's office and commented about an odd smell, which appeared to be coming from the bin. He thought it may have been some of his colleagues putting coffee grounds in the bin.

Another week later, I was in his office again and the smell was now really bad. A bit later, Gary appeared in the lab, carrying his Tupperware tub which, unknown to him, still contained a significant quantity of bean sprouts, now of course somewhat putrefied. He had assumed the student had washed it before giving him it back. He opened it up, and I shouted to him to put it in the fume cupboard before we all got a whiff.

However, just at that moment, the fire alarm went off, so we all trooped outside PDQ. Half an hour later, after the fire brigade had confirmed it was a false alarm, we got back in to the building. The smell was through the whole ground floor. One of our technicians nearly spewed and had to run to the toilet.

The results of this scientific experiment were:

1 - Bean sprouts decompose in anaerobic conditions to form highly noxious compounds
2 - Tupperware is not as airtight as you'd imagine.
3 - Fire alarms have a habit of going off at the oddest times.

No apologies for length. You know you like it that way.
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Thu 17 May 2007, 10:49, Reply)

French food? Pah.
At age 14 or so we went on a school trip across the Channel that involved a stay with a French family for a couple of days. We were in pairs, and me and my mate were billeted with this pleasant enough working-class family somewhere near Rouen. The father was a butcher: when we remarked on the number of rabbits they had in cages in the garden, they pointed out that they were due for slaughter that weekend. Cute.

Anyway, they made a big song and dance about the meal they would serve us on the day we were due to leave: aside from rabbit (of course) there was a 'special surprise'. My friend (the wuss) refused to try either, but I enjoyed the rabbit and did at least try a mouthful of the surprise dish: a fist-sized grey ball, obviously meat on the outside but some sort of white-ish mush on the inside. It was pretty grim but I swallowed it, smiled and asked what it was.

They smiled back and told me, "It's sheep's brain wrapped in turkey meat."

Those sick French bastards will eat anything, I tell you.

By the by, when (somehow) I later found myself teaching English to French kids some years later, in the course of one particular lesson I would ask "Is anyone here a vegetarian?". Naturally (this being France) most of them didn't even know what a vegetarian was, and those few that did always said no. Then in one class a girl put up her hand and said yes. I was amazed, and asked her what sort of things she ate (I'm told it's not easy being a veggie in France). She replied, earnestly, "Well, I don't eat horse."

Close, ma chérie, mais pas de cigar.
( reallywittyname veraciously conspues lexiphanicism on, Thu 17 May 2007, 10:46, Reply)

food and that
eggs, tinned tomatoes, milk, butter and pasta



no
(bacneman, Thu 17 May 2007, 10:46, Reply)

Es Canar, Ibiza
Horrible food in rubbish resort. Then girlfriend and I were served (in order of rubbishness):

Chips - Flash fried, raw potato
Beef burger - a thin disc of grey, congealed fat & gristle containing approximately 5% meat
Cannelloni - Pasta, cheese and finely chopped cat food (rabbit I think, at least they'd bothered to chop it)
Spaghetti carbonara - actually spaghetti and milk

Terrible terrible food.
( abefroman skating on the thin life of modern life on, Thu 17 May 2007, 10:45, Reply)

Peanut Butter Pasta
I had a mate who, whilst he was in Australia invented loads of crazy meals.

One such dish was when he used peanut butter as a sauce for his pasta. He claims that when he first made it, it was "gorgeous" and the sauce was like a satay sauce. However when he introduced me to the dish we obviously went wrong somewhere. Whilst heating the peanut butter, we decided to try and add some milk to thin it out a bit because whilst eating the odd spoonful of peanut butter is rather nice, having many spoonfuls mixed in with pasta isn't. It was so claggy I almost stopped breathing on 2 occasions. Most of the dish was unfortunatly thrown away, and I've since learnt that peanut butter should only be served on toast or in two slices of bread with a serving of strawberry jam.
( mr mixin The dogs like it, Thu 17 May 2007, 10:44, Reply)

Human Dustbin
Back when I t'were lad I'd eat anything. I used to make a killing at school by eating things for cash.

These included:

Mealworms (which are actually disgusting)
Crickets (which weren't too bad, high in protein apparently)
The front face of a calculator (including buttons)
Mud
Other peoples chewing gum
Spiders
Fag butts
All manner of plants
Etc. etc.

You get the idea.

The wierd thing is I can't stand vegetables and haven't eaten them for years!

And mixing Lemsip and coffe is the worst thing I have ever tasted. Ever.
(FerretTrout be illin', Thu 17 May 2007, 10:43, Reply)

My sister
used to sit in the garage and eat Spillars Shapes Dog Biscuits!

Black ones where her fav!
(Dirtyleeds, Thu 17 May 2007, 10:42, Reply)

TEH 'VU
picky eaters again anyone??

anyone?

gah!
(UnstableDan Bah, Humbug! ooooh, humbugs, nyom!, Thu 17 May 2007, 10:39, Reply)

Geology field trip
Somewhere in West Scotland, sharing a static caravan, post pub, one of my mates dined on a plate of pasta and mayonnaise which he promptly sicked up.

No manners but what a (self) critic.
( abefroman skating on the thin life of modern life on, Thu 17 May 2007, 10:38, Reply)

Pizza
You know how they have those little shakers of spices in some pizza places? Well, on a night out, while one of our party had left to use the ablutions, we lifted all the toppings off of one slice of his pizza, covered the entire slice with a thick layer of spicy powder, and then replaced the toppings. He was not happy. I encountered much the same result when I spiked my friend's marmite sandwich with wasabi.
(LickOutTheJamsMotherfuckers!, Thu 17 May 2007, 10:36, Reply)

Old dear
I have had to ban my old dear from serving up the following from Sunday lunch:

Overcooked dry meat
Frozen roast potatoes
Frozen yorkshire puddings
Overboiled veg that is so soggy it slips off your fork

Boo and indeed hiss to rubbish Sunday roast though she is improving.

Apologies for being an ungrateful son.
( abefroman skating on the thin life of modern life on, Thu 17 May 2007, 10:34, Reply)

TEH BASTARDS
made me eat an oyster.
It was like grampappy's jizz.
I boiked muchly.
(UnstableDan Bah, Humbug! ooooh, humbugs, nyom!, Thu 17 May 2007, 10:32, Reply)

Bovril
Once made a cup of Bovril and without thinking put sugar in it.

Then took a large swig.

DO NOT TRY THIS
(Yellow Car is now red, Thu 17 May 2007, 10:31, Reply)

Maggots
I got bored when fishing so I ate a maggot. YUM
(Jimmy Large Is huffing Jenkem on, Thu 17 May 2007, 10:28, Reply)

Garlic
Anything with Garlic in it, makes me rech.

I've also made coffee with custard powder, not too bad, a hint of vanilla.
Tea with custard powder on the other hand is the foulest drink ever.
We were out of milk, powdered milk, heavily stoned and no shops open.

The above poster reminds me of the maggot infested sandwiches my dad used to make me eat as a kid whilst out fishing.
Mmmm maggot pickle and cheese nummy
( M o D, Thu 17 May 2007, 10:27, Reply)