Terrible foodBack when I was a student, we had a "clear out the fridge" party. Everyone brought what they had left and the idea was to make a big meal out of it.
The stew/casserole/whatever was going surprisingly well until someone added the tin of mackerel in tomato sauce they'd been hoarding all year.
What's the worst thing you've ever cooked or eaten? Who's the worst cook you've encountered?
[and yes, we've asked this before, but way, way back before we had the fancy QOTW pages]
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chthonic, Thu 17 May 2007, 10:23)
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Yet another student-based answerI had limited culinary skills but they were better than any of my housemates' and I'd been single-handedly keeping us all alive for the previous 9 months on a diet of spag bols, shepherds pies and chilli. But by the final night of the academic year we were completely, completely skint and the fridge and cupboards were empty.
"Never fear", announced one of my partners-in-crime. "I've been saving something for a situation like this". And he promptly marched off to his room, returning with a large brown cardboard box. "It's EU Aid Food!", he told us, as he proudly unpacked can after unidentifiable can. "You know, like they parachute into earthquake victims and stuff? I got it off my Dad. Can we make something from this?". All the cans were identical and were stamped "Beef Mix - Long Life" in half a dozen languages. It was a sickly grey colour but I figured that by this stage in the proceedings we weren't too fussy. So I elected to make a meat pie from it.
We pooled our meagre resources and one of us was despatched to the corner shop to buy an onion while I made some pastry. I then drained as much liquid as I could from a couple of the cans and fried off the meat and the onion. Then I made a heavy gravy from the last of the Bisto, put the pie together and stuck it into the oven.
Once cooked, we all settled down in the living room with a hearty slice, congraulating ourselves on our good fortune at having made it to the end of term without starving to death. The bloke sitting opposite me sank his teeth into his portion in an exploratory way and we watched fascinated as his face turned greyer than the colour of the meat. I'd already bitten down on mine so I was busy retching gently while he was describing it loudly as tasting, smelling and feeling like "fucking catfood". Its been nearly 8 years since then but occasionally I still wake in the morning with a hangover after a drinking session and I can taste the salty, slightly metallic and darkly lumpy catfood pie at the back of my throat.
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naeonlite, Thu 17 May 2007, 17:35,
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