Tag Archives: gravy

Day 121

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I finally got round to soup making. It was going to be roasted sweet potato soup, but as I lined up a group of hapless sweet potatoes, I noticed a bag of carrots lurking at the back of the veg rack. The trouble with my grocery ordering is that it can be a bit unadventurous and if, for instance, you get bored of carrots, but carry on ordering, you soon end up with a sorry-looking assortment. Add that to the bag of wrinkly ginger and my course of action became clear.

I now have a pan of carrot and ginger soup waiting for tomorrow’s lunch. and  a pan of roasting vegetables, mostly carrots, in the oven. As a result of ill-advised handling of my stick blender I also have some new colours on the wall and on my jumper. Fortunately, it will wash. Luckily I had not added turmeric.

As I say, unadventurous.

In a moment I will be warming a few greens and making some gravy. It will be made using gravy granules as I am lazy and have no pride in my cookery. In an ideal world I would be wearing an apron and making gravy from scratch as a cheerful family gathered round. That is how gravy is so often portrayed. You don’t often see gravy adverts where a single man in a bedsit makes a pan of gravy, livens it up with a good slug of cheap vodka and sits down to eat amongst the dust, regrets and tortured memories of times with his family . . .

Julia says I am no loss to the world of advertising.

In actually started off in quite an upbeat mood and intended talking about poppies. I am going to serve up now and think about a second post.

Thoughts from a Fried Chicken Shop

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KFC Mapperley Nottingham

KFC Mapperley Nottingham

Julia had an appointment for lunch with some of her colleagues from work yesterday. She has more friends than I do, and no shortage of invitations. As a consequence I found myself in a familiar situation – dining alone at a fast food outlet. Fortunately I like my own company. and I like fast food. The choice was KFC.

My first thought on arriving was “Where are all the people?”. I know KFC suffered from bad press recently with their supply chain debacle, but I had thought there would be more than three people in there at 1.30pm. That number was reduced to two when one of us left with his food to eat it elsewhere.

My second thought was that I was surprised by the average age of the clentele. I always think of fried chicken being food for young people. Bearing in mind that I’m 60, and that I’m not wanting to be ungallant about the lady who was the other customer, I reckon that our average age was about 70. This did fall when a couple of youths came in, but not as far as the drop in the average IQ.

This brought me on to thought three – why do white youths adopt the lisping patois they seem to associate with black youth in the ghetto? Or should that be “lithping patois”. It completely seems to escape them that we don’t have ghettos in Nottingham, and that there’s a distinct lack of rap music. I’m not sure whether it’s a case of imitation being the sincerest form of flattery or some sort of condescending cultural appropriation.

Anyway, back to a thought with less potential for argument. Would it be possible to develop a vaccine, or maybe a yoghurt drink, to increase IQ?

Talking of dodgy liquids, I had the gravy. It isn’t really gravy, and Colonel Sanders once referred to it as  “sludge” that had a “wall-paper taste”. That was while he was acting as a brand ambassador for the company after selling it. His idea of an ambassador seems slightly at odds with mine. The company felt this too and sued him. They were unsuccessful, indicating that judicial opinion was on the Colonel’s side.

It’s better than that now, though I do think it’s been better in the past. This isn’t unusual, I tend to think everything was better in the past.

The final thought, as I stared across the road, was that 20 years ago Collectors Corner was still in business and there were none of those shops about that bought old clothes by weight. This is progress.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

A closed collectors’ shop – the very definition of sadness

And on that note I think it’s time to go.

 

The Bempton Trip – a Shaky Start

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The reports from Bempton Cliffs indicated there were 100s of Puffins at sea and hundreds more on the cliffs.

The weather forecast looked good.

We set off early, I had the reserve’s postcode in my pocket, the telescope in the back of the car and a song in my heart. A wife, the prospect of Puffins and plans for a large, cheap breakfast – what more could a man want?

We called at a Toby Carvery in Doncaster for breakfast.

£4.49 for a serve-yourself all you can eat breakfast isn’t bad, even though the tea is £2.09 extra.

The choice is –

  • Bacon (varying from about right to leathery and burnt)
  • British Pork Sausages (they were good, but sadly I could only fit four on the plate)
  • Homemade Potato, Bacon, Cheese and Onion Hash (distinct absence of bacon and lack of cheese – pretty flavourless really)
  • Plum Tomatoes (as in tinned tomatoes)
  • Free Range Fried Eggs (looked rubbery but I didn’t have any)
  • Baked Beans Breakfast (not particularly good flavour)
  • Yorkies with onion and bacon (again, a distinct absence of bacon)
  • Free Range Scrambled Egg (a big solid mass with water in the bottom of the pan – I suspect sous-vide, as we now call boil-in-the-bag)
  • White or Brown Toast (unlike Harvester, which also provides muffins and crumpets)
  • Roasted Button Mushrooms (bland)
  • Tobys Breakfast Gravy (see my later comments)

There was also jam and marmalade available to spoon out of massive bowls and red and brown sauce, also to be spooned out of bowls. There was some pre-packed jam but, unlike harvester, no honey.

So, how was it?

It was cheap, quite a lot cheaper than Harvester, which is my benchmark now Little Chef has gone. But it didn’t quite offer the choice of Harvester, even though the sausages are much better at Toby.

The gravy was a mistake. It ran through a hole in the bottom of the Yorkshire Pudding, which I had filled with sausages. Sausages and gravy – yes. Bacon and gravy, hash and gravy – passable. Tinned tomatoes, beans, mushrooms – I’ve had them all with gravy. Scrambled eggs and gravy…

That memory is going to live with me for a long time.

There are no Harvesters on the way to Bempton, which is why I’d decided to try a Toby. The food was OK, but I think next time we go that way we’ll try Sainsbury’s, which is just 50 yards away.

Was this to be the worst bit of the day or merely the thin end of the wedge?

 

 

A Limerick

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I’m starting the day with a Limerick. It’s one of two I have in mind, featuring well-known WordPressers who have exchanged poetry with me in the last few weeks.

As ever, I call it poetry but offer no opinion as to the quality.

 

A white-haired curmudgeon named Knight,

Found his trousers had grown rather tight.

He ate so much Jalfrezi,

Which he covered in gravy,

That he will never again be quite light.

 

I tried to fit bahji in, but settled for gravy – less accurate but it seemed to fit better. All us artists have to compromise at some point…

There will be at least one more Limerick today – watch this space!