Shandy
Shandy.
It’s lemonade. With a little beer in.
So little beer, they sell it alongside the Pepsi and Orangina and other kiddie pop in the cafe cooler.
Yes, I know how it SOUNDS. But I really like this stuff.
Bite me.
May 5, 2009 — 6:17 pm
Comments: 32
A tale of two foodstuffs
How is everyone today? Feeling well? No high fevers or unexplained night sweats? Good, good.
I’ve mentioned this about British poultry before: the standard whole bird you get in the supermarket, they snap the poor bastard’s legs off right above the feet and jam the stumps up his ass. It’s so undignified; the Christmas turkey ’bout moves me to tears every year.
Well, Sunday’s bird got hisself half untrussed and waved a jaunty stump at us on his way to the death chamber. I thought it was poignant. I share.
As for see below — some sonofarodent got into the cupboard and ate up my bran flakes. Ate ’em all up! I hope he shits himself to death.
April 27, 2009 — 7:35 pm
Comments: 24
Little wonder
Little wonder I get the trots when this is the greasy spoon we stop at for a burger and chips. It’s older than Queen Elizabeth.
The first one. With Bette Davis.
February 4, 2009 — 9:16 pm
Comments: 18
Mortified.
So we decide to have tea (the meal, not the beverage) at a cafe Uncle B calls Salmonella on Sea, on account of it is down by the water and the authorities occasionally take a legal interest in their kitchen hygiene. But it’s tasty, relatively cheap and open until four (aside: there is a frustrating black hole in the afternoon during which you cannot buy cooked food in the UK. Lunch places are open until three-ish, supper places don’t open until six-ish, and between you can starve. Or hit Mickey D’s, one of which we have not got).
So I was tucking into my ptomaineburger and fries, and Uncle B was reaching over to nick some chips, when he made the shush face.
The man at the next table said, “no, it was definitely a stoat. Bigger than a weasel.”
“Yes,” a woman trilled, “and it was running around all night, stealing the chips right off people’s plates.”
I’ll never live it down.
January 26, 2009 — 7:44 pm
Comments: 24
Other British brands that will never, ever make it in the States
January 2, 2009 — 7:38 pm
Comments: 8
Amusing, racially-offensive headline of some kind
We had our first sit-down meal at our favorite Chinese takeaway this evening. It was nice. It was large. It was sweet. I find Chinese sauces here sweeter than I’m used to.
Fortune cookies are unusual here, but we got them. This really was mine. Uncle B’s was something about an angry man closing his eyes and opening his mouth.
We had a walk in the woods (saw a badger sett! And a barn owl!) and came home for a nice, long nap.
A couple more days of enforced idleness like this, and even I might long for a job to do.
Or, you know.
Maybe not.
December 30, 2008 — 7:39 pm
Comments: 16
For you, my friends…
Tesco’s roasted monkey nuts. Roasted monkey nuts. Say it with me: roasted monkey nuts.
Yeah. It’s what they call peanuts.
This isn’t my picture, though. I slung my camera off my shoulder in Tesco’s to snap a stealth photo, and my battery died.
So I nicked a pic off this person‘s Flickr stream. I tried to log into Flickr to leave a comment confessing, but I fell into Corporate Consolidation Hell.
Turns out my new ISP — British Telecom — uses Yahoo webmail, Yahoo owns Flickr and I can’t be logged into more than one. Can’t remember my Flickr or Yahoo details, and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t tell Yahoo my real birfday or anything, so I’m stuck. Here’s my account for historical purposes, anyhow. Everybody wave to it.
Feh. Roasted monkey nuts.
December 29, 2008 — 8:48 pm
Comments: 33
It’s that time of year again!
The time when Stoaty risks detention by serruptitiously taking picture of the most expensive unbought turkey on the shelf. This fat boy weighs in at £96.58, in money. That’s $142.31 by today’s exchange rate, making it a few dollars cheaper than last year’s winner. If we were still working on last year’s exchange rate, though, it would win easily at $191.65. Currency is magic!
Of course, last year’s bird had the charm of looking like proctology waiting to happen.
Appledore is a town in East Sussex. Bronze is a variety. We had a bronze breast (or ‘crown’) last year, and I thought it was vile. Gamey, like it was all dark meat.
But hark! What is that I hear? The tinkling of…booze glasses? Quick, minions — time to get falling-down drunk or Sandy Claws won’t come!
December 24, 2008 — 6:40 pm
Comments: 22
Any excuse to eat fruitcake
Him, not me. I can’t stand the stuff — though I had a bite of this one and it wasn’t bad (it didn’t have that horrible boozy taste; Uncle B was terribly disappointed). The powdered sugar snowflake is a nice touch.
Sorry to be so damned boring. I’m chasing Father Christmas this week with my skirts flung over my head.
That mental image? You’re welcome!
December 15, 2008 — 9:00 pm
Comments: 26
Exotica of the Day
Prawn crackers.
No, no…not pr0n, crackers. Calm down there, you crackers at the back. Prawn crackers are a staple of East Asia. Ninety percent air, 10 percent rice, and I think their collective grandmother might have seen a prawn at the circus once.
A bag of them is usually included with an order of Chinese takeaway (aka takeout) in the UK. At least, that’s my experience. Uncle B says it isn’t always; depends the size of the order. Well. There are no small Chinese takeaway orders in the Badger household, so that’s my experience.
December 1, 2008 — 7:14 pm
Comments: 32