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Posts archive for: June, 2008
  • what happens when you take a good idea and make it...better?

    Don’t you just love snacks? When you’re that special kind of hungry that doesn’t necessarily require a full meal, not that you could be bothered to make a whole meal anyway, but you still want to stuff your face with something quick, easy and satisfying – snacks are where we usual turn. Everyone has their favourite snack as well; some prefer chocolate, some prefer crisps, in some cultures they even snack on deep fried, crispy insects to take the edge of mid-morning. Personally, my favourite is the humble scotch egg - a perfect balance of meat and egg and breadcrumb. I’d love to meet the person that came up with the idea – a crazed Scotsman with an insatiable need for protein for whom a hard boiled egg just wouldn’t cut the mustard any more:

    “Agnus…Agnus! This egg is missin’ somethin’, bring me over some of tha’ meat!!”

    Genius*. And so, thanks to ingenuity we now have access to a meat based snack that’s nutritious, affordable and just the right size to satisfy even the most hearty appetite. Or is it? See this is an argument I was having with an old work colleague recently. Is the standard scotch egg…big enough? No, no it isn’t. But it can’t be much bigger because of the restrictions in the size of the egg which forms its core, you couldn’t just keep adding meat until you have something twice the size, that would be ludicrous and top heavy and would spoil the delicate balance perfected by that protein hungry Scot so many years ago. To create a large scotch egg, you’d need a larger egg. Stands to reason. So that’s what we did, we bought the biggest egg we could find.

    I say the biggest egg we could find, but it wasn’t in fairness. The largest edible egg (that isn’t going to kill you or make you feel nauseous for the rest of your life) is an Ostrich egg. If you live on another planet, or in America, and you don’t know what an Ostrich is, then go and look it up on the internet you lazy and uneducated cretin! Moving on. Unfortunately, due to a cruel twist of fate, I couldn’t procure an ostrich egg in time for the event to come, so I had to settle for a Rhea egg, which is still pretty fucking massive. And no, it didn’t come out of Chris Rhea’s ‘Road to Hell’, before you ask.

    As you may have guessed, at this point we’d decided to charge headlong into the challenge of the large scotch egg and thought it would be ever so funny to make an absolutely massive one. And so we set to the task. I bought two rhea eggs (just in case one rolled off the table or something equally as unfortunate), 5lb of sausage meet from the local organic butcher down the road, a tub of breadcrumbs, 6 cans of premium lager and some Skittles. Although I was tempted to create the world’s first sweet/savoury/alcoholic scotch egg out of all the ingredients I’d purchased, I finally conceded that it was probably a little ambitious for our first attempt and drank the beer instead of putting it in the mixture and threw the Skittles at nearby chavs because they are wrong.

    Our day began around 2pm when Dave decided to drag his still drunk from the night before arse out of bed and get to my house. We had everything we needed and we cracked on fairly sharpishly, first getting the eggs on the boil in a huge cauldron like pan. From what we’d read we figured the rhea eggs would need between 60 and 90 minutes boiling time, so they went in first. We also thought it might be an idea to have a trial run with some normal eggs seeing as we’d never attempted to make a scotch egg before, let alone the world’s biggest (not yet official). Our first attempt didn’t go well – we undercooked the eggs and when we tried to peel them they went gushing out everywhere and made a mess. We tried again, this time boiling for 12 minutes instead of 7 and this went much better. Lessen learned – boil the big ones for longer to be safe. We made scotch eggs out of the small eggs (I’d write the recipe but then I’d have to kill everyone who reads this, but I don’t know who’s read it so I’d probably have to kill everyone that uses the internet just to be sure, which might be construed as antisocial) and they went remarkably well, in fact they were the tastiest scotch eggs I’d ever eaten, possible the greatest snack I’d ever eaten. Things were looking good.

    The big eggs were going to be a little trickier. We’d used a small handful of meat for the little fellas – for the big ones we’d need a pound and a half of meat. The process went: peel the shell off the eggs after cracking it with a hammer, wash the peeled egg, flatten the sausage meat into a pattie sort of thing, coat in flour, put egg on meat, roll meat around egg, coat outer layer in beaten egg, coat in breadcrumbs, cool for an hour, bake for 45 minutes, eat. The thing came out like a massive, meaty, baked football and smelled like a butcher’s dream. It took four of us to eat half of it.

    The texture of the egg was remarkably similar to that of a normal egg, just that the white was a bit creamier. The yolk was exactly the same as a normal hen’s egg. If you got a good mouthful with all three combined it was, surprisingly, just like eating a normal scotch egg! The problem we found though, is that the humble scotch egg you find in deli counters and supermarkets is small for reasons beyond the size of its ingredients, its small because it creates the perfect mouthful. Its balanced and well proportioned, whereas the monster we made was just that, a monster. You had to either eat it with a knife and fork or have the mouth of a 50 year old prostitute from Leeds.

    So there you have it people, the story of the massive scotch egg. It was a highly amusing idea, packed with novelty value, but when it came to finding the perfect meat and egg based snack, I think we already had it right under our noses.

    Peas

    *(unfortunately I’ve recently discovered that the scotch egg was in fact invented in London, at the convenience store of Fortnum and Mason in 1738, not by an angry, hungry Scot. Disappointing news but thank you anyway Wikipedia)

  • The Amazing 80's

    Firstly may I congratulate my esteemed colleague in setting up what will hopefully be an outlet of general rambelings.. ideas.. and stuff.

    Marvellous..

    Now, after a somewhat hectic evening of darts, beer, cocaine and extremely wide essex talking, (saying the same word twice for some reason.. ie, "comon son, let’s get on the darts, the darts son" dya wanna beer fella, a beer... ???) The beauty of forming line while they form a queue, gibbering until the early hours about the wonder of space time and distant galaxies, whether we could actually make celebrity blood sausage work, (black pudding made from famous people) and who would win in a fight between Brian Blessed and a well armed cow. I have awoken to suffer what can only be a brief glimpse of purgatory.

    I work for a rather well know and very left wing paper, where people mainly discuss the benefits of anti oxidants, the future of lint as ever renewable energy source and the hilarity of anything chav. All whilst sitting in groups, knitting yogurt and wearing shoes made entirely out of bark chewed and moulded into shape by a recently found untouched tribe of papua new guineaians in return for mars bars and MTV.

    Its good.. however! Me, my swollen bulging eyes, gibbering brain and screaming hangover are finding it hard to deal with work today. I'm finding it especially hard to keep up the pretence that everything is "amazing".. Cracks are starting to appear in my world..

    Peoples voices are high pitched shrieks and shrills.. that have reduced me to hide behind my chair throwing a hole punch or stapler, lap top if needed at anyone that might want to converse.. Life is challenging to say the least. Whilst not hiding I'm slumped at my desk with my chin on the spacebar dribbling into the bottom row of my quirky keyboard.

    People are complaining of a low level deep rumbling sound, which has so far been blamed on the air conditioning, in fact this me growling and moaning at the fact that I am alive, and not been given the relief of death. Normally I can handle a hangover, but today I'm hanging to the point of a near stroke... the reason for this hangover to be harder to deal with than most follows.

    You see to add to my horror, I am forced to listen to a creature that projects the worst noise I could bear... unbridled middle/upper-class uppity snobby babble! If you were to listen to the back chatter of my little office, well mainly the desk directly behind me, you would hear that everything is amazing in this fluffy rabbits tail of this silly individuals post private school wonderland...

    I have come to find there is a certain noise this small demographic makes, an accent exactly the same no matter where they grew up. In keeping with the correct image, this one most especially has infinite amount of opinions, and happily glares down its inordinately long nose at anyone that that could possibly be considered close to working class.

    My favourite quote to-date... "Oh god you know, I'm talking about scumbags.. filth.. people that live on council estates and work on market stalls"... sigh!

    Its unfortunately noises like this that will be followed by.. "oh come on .. I'm only saying what your all thinking" cue high pitched giggle and self congratulatory smile at the braveness of such outspoken hilarity.

    At the moment this particular individual has just been given a cup of tea... which as you guessed is "amazing" I believe it is made out of nettles!!? Seriously were you not stung as a child?? I was blotchy and covered in calamine lotion from the age 3 to 13! A horrific experience that has left me more than jaded and somewhat of a recluse when it comes to the nettle, as for making tea out of the fucker?? NO I'm afraid not!

    The amazing list doesn't stop there mind.. No no.. the most amazing thing at the moment, everything from the 80's!

    Now growing up in the 80's I am slightly inclined to agree.. The A team "drink milk fool.. Pain!!" Madness, “the heavy heavy munster sound”, Pamela Andersons tits, Maguiver stuck in a tree managing to fashion a rudimentary rocket propelled grenade from a paper clip, the sun, and a small squirrel. Maggie Thatcher nicking my milk.. well that was a low... but mainly these are the bastions of my youth. However!!! large plastic glasses.. dressing like your auditioning for a spoof of fame.. (thankfully no one lives forever.. let alone you!) and the bizarre practice of adopting the fashion of Timmy mallet on crack, is all starting make my head spin!

    I unfortunately suffered the 80s the first time round, and am glad to say I had enough sense come the 90's to put Timmy mallet.. big plastic glasses, neon clothing and the relax don't do it t-shirts in a bag and down to the river. An action I may well take up with the next person who tells me "oh my god... my new leg warmers are amazing.

    So sat at my desk with my brain throbbing from not only my hangover but the inane white noise that shrieks, shrills and spouts its opinions, I find myself somewhat at the end of my tether!

    My work is suffering, I'm reduced to fending off e-mails by thrusting a swivel chair at my screen and whipping the lead of my mouse at the floor, in the hope of pushing back the constant requests for me to do anything other than cringe and stare longingly at the sky for sweet release. My brain simply can't compete with the ear splitting sound of high pitched nonsense and deal with the incoming bombardment of e-mails. The outcome ..I find myself slumped at my desk like a stroke victim reeling from the onslaught of inane babble and the continual pounding of my head. I long for the days when work was fun, and a killer hangover would be your only challenge... this new level of torture is just too much to bare.

    My only answer so far is to place a landmine under its keyboard. But where do you get a landmine during your lunch break in the middle of Farringdon?? Perhaps i’ll try woolies.. JML section!

    So suffering in relative silence.. other than the rumbling groan, I eagerly wait in anticipation of 530.. When in all fairness I will be drinking with the remaining work lot, who I thankfully along with, in the search of the only cure, a hair of the dog. Hopefully this won't be marred by the back ground noise of headbands being "so the new thing"

    This rather ironically will probably lead me back to my less than makeshift wanna be Gordon Gecko pad to watch some 80’s trash as I fall a kip.

    What can I say .. life’s “AMAZING”

    This may be the first and last entry for a while as I feel a Ferris coming on....

    Beauler..... beauler.....!

    Next Blog to be nowhere near as jaded!

  • I am Alpha and Omega - the beginning and the end

    As I write this, sipping my 20p Cappio coffee and nibbling on a ginger nut, I can't help but feel that I am teetering on the brink of the beginning of something marvellous. Or terrible and pointless. I'm not entirely sure which of the two its going to be yet.

    My esteemed associate (who will soon be contributing to this collection of words and sentences) and me have decided that it would be ever so amusing to write down some of the stories we've collected over the years - either from people we've met on our mystical journey through this merry-go-round we call life or from our own ridiculous experiences.

    So, consider yourself briefed and introduced. We'll do our best to keep this uplifting and worth reading in the first place, and then we'll consider editing the whole damn lot together into some kind of award winning script or book or similar.

    Anyway, I'm off to eat another ginger nut so go back to whatever it was you were doing and I'll catch you in the next room.

    Peas and love my brethren

    Jim (one half of JanDim)

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