Placeholder Post

I am halfway through writing up my Strictlywatch, but now I must go and eat vast quantities of Indian food with my uncle, and after that I suspect I may wish to lie down whimpering but also savouring the joy of eating a week's worth of food in an hour. Thank you for your understanding.

In which I am patronised by a soup

Good morning! Today I am mostly: annoyed by soup.

Now, when I buy soup (and I am aware that it would be cheaper and more fulfilling to make my own: this too is an annoyance, but not the main one) I only really need to know two things about it: what's in it, and how long it takes to heat it up in the microwave. Soups have been providing this information since time immemorial (or perhaps since the invention of the domestic microwave oven in 1967), and I'm not exactly sure when they got bored of providing it in the traditional manner. But they have.

Thus to today's soup, a Tuscan Chicken and Orzo from Glorious Soups. I'm not sure who you think the market is for a Tuscan Chicken and Orzo soup, but I suspect it is someone quite middle class and pretentious who likes to think they are eating a sophisticated soup tailored for their sophisticated palate. Me, in other words. I therefore am the target audience for the following:

I've been carefully checked for bones, but you might still find a few small ones

and

I contain celery and gluten. I've been known to hang around near nuts, peanuts and sesame seeds and I may contain them as well

and

Freezing me? best do it right now and eat me within a month

and most egregious of all

Ouch! My pot can get a bit wobbly when it's hot, so stand me on a plate when you're reheating and stirring, and mind your fingers when you pick me up

(although actually I am put off my soup even more by

Made in the UK with three spoonfuls of love and a pinch of gusto

but it doesn't count because it's not in the sodding first person. And how many calories in a spoonful of love, eh? Tell me that.)

I am 34 years old. I left nursery school 30 years ago and that was the last time anyone saw fit to speak to me in this stupid, affected, patronising voice. And on that occasion it was a human being, not a fucking soup.

A message to the people of Glorious soups: I want to EAT the soup, not make friends with it. And in any case, when I'm hanging out with my friends (or "chilling", as in Let's chill. Keep me in the fridge) they very rarely exhort me to take off my lid and stand me on a plate in the microwave and make sure I'm nice and hot before serving. Because that would be WRONG. And a bit kinky.

[UPDATE: The soup was delicious. I don't know if that makes it more annoying or less.]

All of which reminds me of that brilliant scene in Restaurant at the End of the Universe, by the late, great, and apparently prophetic, Douglas Adams, when Arthur Dent meets the cow that is soon going to be his dinner:

A large dairy animal approached Zaphod Beeblebrox's table, a large fat meaty quadruped of the bovine type with large watery eyes, small horns and what might almost have been an ingratiating smile on its lips.

"Good evening," it lowed and sat back heavily on its haunches, "I am the main Dish of the Day. May I interest you in parts of my body?" It harrumphed and gurgled a bit, wriggled its hind quarters into a more comfortable position and gazed peacefully at them.

Its gaze was met by looks of startled bewilderment from Arthur and Trillian, a resigned shrug from Ford Prefect and naked hunger from Zaphod Beeblebrox.

"Something off the shoulder perhaps?" suggested the animal, "Braised in a white wine sauce?"

"Er, your shoulder?" said Arthur in a horrified whisper.

"But naturally my shoulder, sir," mooed the animal contentedly, "nobody else's is mine to offer."

Zaphod leapt to his feet and started prodding and feeling the animal's shoulder appreciatively.

"Or the rump is very good," murmured the animal. "I've been exercising it and eating plenty of grain, so there's a lot of good meat there." It gave a mellow grunt, gurgled again and started to chew the cud. It swallowed the cud again.

"Or a casserole of me perhaps?" it added.

"You mean this animal actually wants us to eat it?" whispered Trillian to Ford.

"Me?" said Ford, with a glazed look in his eyes, "I don't mean anything."

"That's absolutely horrible," exclaimed Arthur, "the most revolting thing I've ever heard."

"What's the problem Earthman?" said Zaphod, now transferring his attention to the animal's enormous rump.

"I just don't want to eat an animal that's standing here inviting me to," said Arthur, "it's heartless."

"Better than eating an animal that doesn't want to be eaten," said Zaphod.

"That's not the point," Arthur protested. Then he thought about it for a moment. "Alright," he said, "maybe it is the point. I don't care, I'm not going to think about it now. I'll just ... er ..."

The Universe raged about him in its death throes.

"I think I'll just have a green salad," he muttered.

"May I urge you to consider my liver?" asked the animal, "it must be very rich and tender by now, I've been force-feeding myself for months."

"A green salad," said Arthur emphatically.

"A green salad?" said the animal, rolling his eyes disapprovingly at Arthur.

"Are you going to tell me," said Arthur, "that I shouldn't have green salad?"

"Well," said the animal, "I know many vegetables that are very clear on that point. Which is why it was eventually decided to cut through the whole tangled problem and breed an animal that actually wanted to be eaten and was capable of saying so clearly and distinctly. And here I am."

It managed a very slight bow.

"Glass of water please," said Arthur.

"Look," said Zaphod, "we want to eat, we don't want to make a meal of the issues. Four rare steaks please, and hurry. We haven't eaten in five hundred and seventy-six thousand million years."

The animal staggered to its feet. It gave a mellow gurgle.

"A very wise choice, sir, if I may say so. Very good," it said, "I'll just nip off and shoot myself."

He turned and gave a friendly wink to Arthur.

"Don't worry, sir," he said, "I'll be very humane."

Alternative

Don't read my blog today. Read Robert Hudson guest blogging on Me And My Big Mouth. It is an inspiring photo essay which will blow your mind, and teach you to make better coleslaw, which won't be hard: coleslaw is the finely-shredded food of the devil. I need to go and wash my tongue just from thinking about it.

Too Much Information

Yesterday, reading yet another terrible sex scene in an otherwise well-written novel, I got to thinking, not for the first time, why it is that it is so difficult to write about sex well? And I think I finally thought of an answer that makes sense, which is that sex, ultimately, is just another everyday bodily function that doesn't need to be described at length because everybody who's ever done it pretty much knows what it's like. And yet sex scenes have a terrible tendency to go on and on, as if they are describing the experience to somebody who has no idea what it is.

Consider eating an apple. As an author, you might just say "I had an apple", and everyone is fairly clear on what that means, because most of your readership will have eaten apples before. If you want to make it clear that it's a particular kind of apple experience, you might give a little more detail, such as "I bit into the apple, and the flesh crumbled in my mouth to a dry heap of powdery disappointment." Again, we've all been there. What is totally unnecessary is the following:

The apple gleamed in the bowl, its shiny red and green skin so inviting. I longed to take it, to sink my teeth into its firm yet yielding flesh. I picked it up, its luscious curves filling my hand to perfection, and carried it over to the sink, where I let the long, cool stream wash over it, my mouth watering like the tap itself. Then I opened my mouth wide, feeling my jaw tense slightly in anticipation. I bit. My teeth pierced the apple's skin and all at once my mouth was filled with juicy wetness. Its sweet, sharp tang was so delicious, better even than I had imagined. I moved my teeth up and down, chewing, chewing that melting apple flesh, my tongue wrapping itself around around its liquid goodness. I swallowed, and peristalsis wafted the apple down to my stomach, which rumbled in appreciation.

Writers: as a rule, if you're giving more information about sex than you would do about a meal, then that is TOO MUCH INFORMATION.

Introducing BBBB

A rare treat on the blog today, an interview with the delightful Stephanie Butland, Firestation Bookswap regular, blogger of Bah To Cancer fame, stupendous BBBB book giveaway organiser and cupcake baker extraordinaire - more on all of which can be found below. You should read right to the end of the interview unless you are on a really strict diet, in which case you might want to close the browser the moment that I mention cupcakes because it gets very tempting from there on in... But to start with, talk of BBBB and books in general.

Who are you and what is this BBBB of which you speak?

I'm Stephanie Butland and I was diagnosed with breast cancer in November 2008. Since then I've had surgery, chemotherapy, radiotherapy, and ongoing drug therapy, and I've chronicled my dance with cancer at www.bahtocancer.com.
One thing I discovered during treatment was that my usual response to long days of not feeling well - curling up on the sofa with a book - didn't work. At first I put it down to poor attention span and watched a lot of daytime TV instead. But then someone gave me a Georgette Heyer novel and I devoured it. I realised that my usual books - dense, dark thrillers, complex small-print novels, modern fiction usually involving incest and other nastiness - just weren't the right books for me while I was trying to get better. So I started reading differently - Agatha Christie, Dick Francis, Lisa Jewell - and was re-reminded of what a healing thing a good book can be.
The BBBB - Bah! Brilliant Book Bonanza - was born from this experience. I've persuaded lots of lovely writers and publishers - including your fragrant self - to donate copies of their books, and I'm inviting anyone in need of a good, uplifting read (you don't need to have cancer) to come along and leave a 'pick me!' comment. So you can get a good, free, read if you need one, or you can make a small donation - I'm suggesting £2 - for every 'pick me' comment that you leave. So, if it works - and I'm going to look a complete twit if it doesn't - people in need of a good book will get one, and cancer charities will make a bit of money.

How can my lovely readers get involved with BBBB?

Readers can go to www.bahtocancer.com/bbbb and click on the 'May 2010 BBBB' link, read the list of available books - and there are some brilliant ones - leave a comment to say which one they'd like, and leave a 'pick me!' comment.

Writers who want to get involved with the BBBB can contact me via the site and tell me about the book they'd like to donate. It can be anything - fiction, biography, poetry, young adult books - so long as it leaves you with a smile on your face.

And now for some book questions. First book you remember reading / being read to you?

I remember a book called 'A Child's Garden of Verses' which was a big, heavy, illustrated poetry book. And my Grandma had a book at her house that she read to me and I loved - called 'Jim and Mary and the Rocking Horse' about a rocking horse in a park that sometimes came to life. I remember my Dad reading to me a lot. And I remember always being a reader. The first time we went on a plane, I missed the whole experience because my Mum had bought me a new Malory Towers book to read on holiday and I wasn't allowed to start it until we got on the plane. So I spent the whole flight with my nose stuck in the book with my Mum periodically interrupting me to try to get me to look out of the window.

First book that had a significant impact on you and the way you saw the world?

I really wanted to say something really impressively intellectual here, but I have to be honest and say it was one of the Enid Blyton St. Clare's boarding school books. I forget the context exactly but the message was that everyone has something special about them - and one day you will discover what is special about you. I liked that. Still do.

Favourite obscure book that everyone should know about?

'Chatterton Square' by E. H. Young. The characters are just exquisite and the story so moving. And it's such a delight to read a book where all the main characters are middle aged and none the less interesting for that.

A book that everyone loves but which you just don't get?

'The Time Traveller's Wife'. I get that the conceit is clever but frankly, I just couldn't care less. I've recently given up on 'The Children's Book' by A S Byatt when I was 100 pages in and loathed everyone in it. I read 'Wolf Hall' and felt very 'So what?' at the end, although I've loved Hilary Mantel's other novels. Oh, and you can keep all of Dickens.

All-time favourite book (or books - as this can be like choosing between your children)?

'Middlemarch' by George Eliot for the sheer span of it, and for Dorothea Brooke
'Bel Canto' by Ann Patchett, which is simply faultless
'A Suitable Boy' by Vikram Seth - I do have a bit of a big book fetish and this is the top of my big book list
The Edith Wharton one with Lily Bart that I can't remember the name of. Oh, hang on, "The House of Mirth'. The inevitability of the ending breaks my heart every time
'Cloud Atlas' by David Mitchell which is so brilliant and so clever but the brilliance and the cleverness don't interfere with the fact that these are really good stories.
'A Month of Sundays' by John Updike, although frankly I'd pay to read Updike's shopping list.

A special BBBB question - what's the perfect uplifting read for when times get really tough?

For me, it's a Jane Austen novel, because I've read them all so often that I can read and enjoy them without too much effort, and they link me back through my past, and new things speak to me every time.

Last but not remotely least: you are famous amongst the Firestation Bookswap audience for your delicious cupcakes. Care to share a recipe with us?

Of course! Here is my 'Vanilla Variations' recipe.

To make a dozen cupcakes you will need:
- 125g butter at room temperature
- 125g golden caster sugar
- 2 eggs
- 125g self raising flour
- a tablespoon of vanilla extract (not essence)
- a glug or two of full-fat milk
- muffin cases (not cupcake cases. This matters: it gives you the optimum cake to icing ratio.)

Heat the oven to 160 degrees celsius or so. Beat together the butter and sugar until it's really, really pale, or get a machine to do it for you. Add and egg and half the flour and beat it in slowly. Then the other egg and the other half of the flour, then the vanilla, then enough milk to make a soft dropping consistency - take a spoonful of the mixture, hold it sideways over the bowl, and if it falls off within 3 seconds that's what you've got.
Divide the mixture between the cases and put them in the oven. Take a look at them after 15 minutes: they should be pale gold and spring back to the touch. If in doubt, give them another 5 minutes. Remove the tray from the oven and leave the cakes in there until they are cool.

Now, the topping. This is where the variations come in. Try any of the following. As a general rule, the longer you mix the toppings for, the better they'll be.

Basic icing: 200g icing sugar and a little cold water. Vary this by replacing the water with lemon or orange juice, or adding a drop of rosewater. Golden caster sugar will give a hint of caramel.

Royal icing: start by whisking an egg white until it's foamy then add 200g icing sugar. This gives you a crunchier icing when it sets. You can add any flavouring to this one, and try it with golden caster sugar too.

Traditional frosting: use 100g cream cheese (such as Philadelphia), 50g butter, 200g icing sugar and a glug of vanilla extract.

Add 2 tablespoons of good quality cocoa powder to any of the above.

Try mixing lemoncurd with thick greek yoghurt and putting a raspberry on top, but you'll need to store these in the fridge and eat them quickly.

Beat 100g Nutella with 200g icing sugar.

Melt 200g good quality dark chocolate, 50g butter and 100g double cream. You'll need to leave this to thicken before you use it and keep these in the fridge.

Once you have the icing and the cakes are cool, put the icing on and spread it around, and put something yummy on the top. Raspberries, chocolate buttons, sugar roses, dolly mixtures, flaked almonds (good with rose icing), those chocolates in the shape of seashells - they're all good.

Enjoy!

Through the looking-glass

Amongst my mother's collection of recipes, I find an ancient (and somewhat revolting-sounding) Delia Smith cutting for Noodles with Cream Cheese and Mushrooms ("What is essential is the cream cheese flavoured with herbs and garlic... you may have to search around in delicatessens or specialised food shops.") On the back are listings for that night's BBC1 viewing:

6.25 - Nationwide
6.50 - Triangle: Episode 25 of the North Sea ferry saga
7.15 - Looking Good, Feeling Fit - Bracing health series checks up on stress, make-up for black girls and how Spandau Ballet keep up appearances.
7.45 - The Freddie Starr Showcase - new-talent acts are introduced by Freddie Starr.
8.30 Only Fools and Horses - Superior comedy series with David Jason as a South London hustler continually at cross-purposes with his brother and grandfather.

How did anybody get out of the eighties alive? *Clicks heels together* There's no place like home... There's no place like home... There's no place like home...

That old romcom dinner cliche

A film which is much better than you might expect, though not exactly braving the dizzy heights of "good", is Miss Congeniality 2: Armed and Fabulous. Mainly I liked it for the following reasons:

- I have a bit of a weakness for Sandra Bullock doing funny (as opposed to Sandra Bullock doing serious, which sends me screaming to the hills.)
- Funny Sandra Bullock gets to wear a lot of exceedingly stupid outfits in this film.
- It's a romantic comedy with no romance. SB's character is not rewarded by social acceptance in the form of love at the end of the film, as per every other movie about women; instead she has a make-under, dumps the stupid outfits, goes back to wearing trouser-suits and sensible hair, and makes friends with her equally unglamorous female bodyguard.
- There's a scene set in a Las Vegas bar filled with female impersonators.
- The presence of William Shatner and Abraham Benrubi.

Not enough to get your running to the DVD shop I agree, but say you were ill, and it was being repeated on ITV2, you could do worse than switching it on and seeing if anything in the first twenty minutes made you laugh. Laugh might be too much. Smile, anyway.

Having said that, I couldn't help but notice the egregious inclusion of the one scene that no romantic comedy is complete without: the moment early on where the woman goes back to her empty apartment and eats a lonely dinner while miserable music plays. Think of any romantic comedy you like. Say Sandra Bullock again in the otherwise great fun Two Weeks' Notice, so pathetic that her local Chinese takeaway knows her order by heart. Or Jennifer Lopez in The Wedding Planner with her obsessive compulsive meal, perfectly neatly presented with hospital-corners-folded napkin. (Now seems as good a time as any to mention that The Wedding Planner is so awful I cried at the end from the sheer futility of living a life that had included watching it.) I can't be bothered to list them all, but once you notice, it's impossible to unnotice, and now my heart sinks when the female lead closes the door of her apartment, says hello as often as not to her cat, and the weepy music swells as she opens the fridge.

They have to play the weepy music, because otherwise there's a risk that you might notice that the female lead has a really cool apartment in the centre of a really cool American city - New York, or San Francisco say - and it really doesn't seem like such a miserable option to sit down in front of her really cool product-placement flatscreen TV and stuff her face with delicious food. In fact some might argue that one of the perks of being single and living alone is that you get to eat exactly what you want, when you want, and there is no such thing as table manners. If I ever make a romantic comedy, there will be happy, joyful music when the heroine eats alone, and we will only graduate to the weepy stuff when the batteries of her vibrator have run flat or some heavy boxes need lifting.

Yearly Starchy Fun

Just back from a late night eating pancakes on account of it being Pancake Day, or at least it was when we started eating the pancakes earlier on. To my astonishment two of the guests at the feast were American and revealed that not only do they not celebrate Pancake Day in the US, but they had never even heard of it. Then the New Zealander flatmate of the host turned up halfway through the evening and said that she hadn't heard of it before either.

And there was me thinking that Pancake Day was a universal feast, like Christmas! It's not like Thanksgiving or Guy Fawkes or Australia Day or that thing where the Spanish get chased through the streets by bulls. It's the global day of pancake love before Lent! Or if not global, at the very least pan-Christian, no pun intended.

But apparently the rest of the world is being deprived their yearly starchy fun. Help me out here, non-British readers. Do you celebrate Pancake Day? And if not, would you like to start, from next Shrove Tuesday? It's really very simple:

1. Wait until Shrove Tuesday.
2. Eat pancakes. (And by pancakes, I mean crepes, oh ye of the US.)

What on earth have you been holding back for all this time? You don't even need to be chased through the streets by bulls!

A Loophole!

Close scrutiny of my antibiotics reveals that I am not allowed dairy products *at the time of day when I am taking my antibiotics* ie morning and evening. I can totally have cheese at lunchtime! JOY!

Of course, there's still the pain and perpetual urination.

Sigh.

UPDATE: I got so excited by that that I just ran the toaster without putting any bread in it. Which is worrying.

Recurring Nightmare

I am ill again, the same cystitis that had me out of action at the end of last year. And, I have just remembered, last Valentine's Day, as I recall experiencing the exact same wave of irony that I would be celebrating the festival of love with an illness which makes sex about the least appealing thing you can possibly imagine short of putting stinging nettles where the sun doesn't shine (and I don't mean Manchester).

Anyway, the doctor, fearing drug resistance, has put me on a different antibiotic from usual. I am used to taking antibiotics, and used to prohibitions against drinking alcohol, which is fine - I can easily go without booze for a week, and it's a good opportunity to give your liver a rest. This time, however, the antibiotics come with a new instruction: I can have alcohol, but I am not allowed to have any dairy products. That's right. Not only am I in pain, feverish, and not able to go more than five minutes without visiting the loo, I CAN'T EAT CHEESE FOR A WEEK. Forget sex, forget wine, this is the hardest cut of all. There is *nothing* I love more than cheese, and that includes most of my closest friends (they know this and bear the burden as best they can).

My bladder is a cruel, cruel mistress. I am her unwilling slave.

Cheeeeeeeeeese.

Sigh.

Underrated Food, Overrated Band: Part 2

The unexpectedly swift return of the fun new feature in which I eat an underrated foodstuff whilst listening to overrated music on the radio!

This week: spaghetti bolognese accompanied by 'God is a DJ' by Faithless.

Spaghetti Bolognese may not be considered the cutting edge of Italian cooking but it's perfect comfort food on a cold day after a long session with the physiotherapist (back very much on the mend, hurrah!) Bloody hell, this music is so boring and soulless and wibbly. I don't know the track but it just HAS to be Faithless. Oh look. Yes it is.

Underrated Food, Overrated Band

A new, possibly very occasional, feature in which I eat an underrated food whilst the radio plays an overrated band.

Part one: soft boiled eggs with granary toast soldiers, accompanied by the Manic Street Preachers.

Mmmm... perfectly cooked eggs, the creaminess of the white and soft drip of the yolk deliciously offset by the salty tang of the hot buttered toast. God, would it KILL them to match the lyrics to the music just for ONCE?

Here's one I ate earlier: an update

I hope that my mother won't object to me quoting her e-mail verbatim:

"Epoisses is the cheese that we once brought back from skiing. We had to drive with the windows open, apologise to the customs officer for the smell in the car, put it on the window ledge outside when we got home and finally throw it away as the smell overpowered us all. And I had asked the cheese monger for a 'cheese that did not smell too much as we were traveling'. We have eaten it since, but never have had such problems with the smell of it. It was obviously a particularly powerful variety."

Believe me I remember it well, the smelliest cheese I have ever encountered, and I was only ten years old. It was a phenomenon. As Sartre, I believe, once said, "L'enfer, c'est L'Epoisses", or it is in a confined space anyway. Thanks for the clarification, Maman.

Here's one I ate earlier

From Behind The Laptop...

The Omnivore's Hundred

1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.


2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.


3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.


4) Optional extra: Post a comment here at www.verygoodtaste.co.uk linking to your results.


NB They don't have formatting options for the very useful "I can't remember" or "what the fuck is that" so I will have to annotate as we go.


The VGT Omnivore’s Hundred:

1. Venison


2. Nettle tea
 - I can't remember. Already.

3. Huevos rancheros
 - Also. And we're only three in. This is going badly. Can everyone else remember every unremarkable thing they ever ate?

4. Steak tartare


5. Crocodile


6. Black pudding
 - I'm sure it's delicious but the concept grosses me out.

7. Cheese fondue


8. Carp - as I recall, a bit of a waste of time. Lots of little bones.


9. Borscht


10. Baba ghanoush


11. Calamari
 - Rubbery. Yuk. What is all the fuss about?

12. Pho

13. PB&J sandwich - Americans: boy are you ever wrong about these.


14. Aloo gobi


15. Hot dog from a street cart
 - I have definitely eaten hotdogs. But from a street cart? I think I need to do one of those things where they open your brain and poke it to see if your memory works.

16. Epoisses
 - qu'es ce que c'est? [Googles] Oh, it's a cheese! In that case,almost certainly, as I've never met a cheese I didn't like, but I can't bold for certain because I just don't know.

17. Black truffle

18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
 - Not a clue. Would I even notice?

19. Steamed pork buns


20. Pistachio ice cream


21. Heirloom tomatoes
 - I dunno. I have eaten tomatoes. I am starting to realise I might be failing as a foodie.

22. Fresh wild berries


23. Foie gras but never again, after watchig that play about force-feeding sufragettes.


24. Rice and beans


25. Brawn, or head cheese
 - No but I was once laughed at for mistranslating some German term as Head Cheese when I was 14, and I have never got over it, and I will balme head cheese forever and no morsel of it will pass these lips.

26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper
 - are you insane?

27. Dulce de leche
 - would screw with my lactose issues

28. Oysters
 - would rather swallow snot: cheaper, and basically the same

29. Baklava


30. Bagna cauda
 - some Italian dip, apparently

31. Wasabi peas
 - never again! I loathe Wasabi

32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
 and I don't eat clams, but I have had an edible bowl before and it's a world of fun.

33. Salted lassi
 Lactose, lactose... And yes I can eat cheese and yes it is confusing.

34. Sauerkraut


35. Root beer float
 - why drink Root Beer when you could just eat toothpaste?

36. Cognac with a fat cigar


37. Clotted cream tea


38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O


39. Gumbo


40. Oxtail


41. Curried goat


42. Whole insects
 - I had fried grasshoppers. They taste like crisps (ie of salt and fat) but the legs get stuck between your teeth.

43. Phaal


44. Goat’s milk


45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
 - I had about three sips and was nearly unconscious it was so strong. Good unconscious, though.

46. Fugu
 - the exploding japanese death fish thingy? Um, no thanks.

47. Chicken tikka masala


48. Eel


49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut


50. Sea urchin
 - you peel it, I'll eat it

51. Prickly pear


52. Umeboshi
 - Probably have, it's some sour Japanese plum apparently

53. Abalone
 - I have only eaten land snails, and not enjoyed them either.

54. Paneer


55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal - Just chips and dip for me please


56. Spaetzle
 - you wouldn't belivee how many of these I'm having to look up. Some kind of German dumpling thing, apparently.

57. Dirty gin martini
 - olives, yuk. And in your drink?

58. Beer above 8% ABV
 - I can't drink beer, but I do drink the homebrew cider at the Sqaure and Compass in Worth Matravers and half a pint is enough to knock out a wrestler.

59. Poutine
 - cheese curd, chips and gravy. I haven't, but I so would.

60. Carob chips Carob is the chocolate they serve you in Hell

61. S’mores


62. Sweetbreads
 - Not sweet. Not bread. Rename, please.

63. Kaolin
 - "Kaolin is an absorbent medicine used to treat diarrhoea". Yum.

64. Currywurst


65. Durian
 - it's fruit. It smells. I'm unexcited.

66. Frogs’ legs
 - tastes like chicken

67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake


68. Haggis - Sorry, Scotland


69. Fried plantain


70. Chitterlings, or andouillette
 - SOunds like the kind of thing I wouldn't eat (tripe sausage) but I wouldn't be surprised if it has caught me unawares in a restaurant somewhere in France

71. Gazpacho


72. Caviar and blini


73. Louche absinthe
 - or perhaps I have drunk loads of it, explaining the memory loss evident throughout this meme

74. Gjetost, or brunost - it's cheese, I'll eat it


75. Roadkill - depends what type. Venison yes, badger no.

76. Baijiu
 - hardcore scary Chinese booze apparently

77. Hostess Fruit Pie

78. Snail


79. Lapsang souchong


80. Bellini


81. Tom yum


82. Eggs Benedict


83. Pocky - aka Mikado in Europe, apparently.

84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant
 - No, but if anyone's offering...

85. Kobe beef


86. Hare

87. Goulash


88. Flowers
 - if courgette flowers count

89. Horse
 - I am a commited carnivore but I just can't. Too many memories of pony riding as a child. Having said that, I have chomped through plenty of our donkey friends in the form of Italian dried sausages.

90. Criollo chocolate


91. Spam
 and I have never quite got over it.

92. Soft shell crab


93. Rose harissa


94. Catfish
 - another one of those memory lapses. Why on earth would I remember catfish?

95. Mole poblano


96. Bagel and lox


97. Lobster Thermidor
 - I am distinctly meh on the subject of lobster. I know, I know.

98. Polenta


99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
 - can't drink coffee

100. Snake - does this include the pink variety?