And Then There Was A Curry….

Okay, the cold, flue or whatever, is just about gone now. Probably sweated out with the stress of possible laptop melt down.

Not surprisingly, ‘my little nest of vipers’ has been completely untouched by this malady as germs and such seem unable to penetrate her granite like, with stainless steel accoutrements, exterior. It also seems sympathy has a problem getting out.

Could the resistance to germs be down to her Southeast Asian diet? I’m not talking about the food you see presented in restaurants, here or over there. I mean come on, really, a visitor to these shores, who chanced to dine in a restaurant, isn’t going to go home and tell all their friends how damn well those Brits eat, right? So, same same.

What these folk eat at home was best summed up by a friend as being akin to road kill and rice. This was not meant in a derogatory way at all, as a lot of their food is very nice, hot, but nice. On the other hand, a lot of it is very hot and very scary looking. What he was basically saying is how fussy us is regarding what we eat and how un-fussy others, other than us, is.

Whereas we would carefully select nice pieces of white chicken to add to our curry, or carefully cut a chicken up, avoiding the gristly and bony bitts, the black bits and the skin bits, over there they will carefully prepare the chicken with a seven pound lump hammer ‘till they have beaten it into roughly mouth size chunks.

Partaking in a ‘home grown’ curry over there, and finding something unpalatable in the meal is not occasion for one of those, “Aghhh, there’s a feather in my curry!!” moments. Even if it’s a beef curry.....

The etiquette for dealing with unpalatable thingies will depend on the country you’re in down there and range from discreetly removing the item from your mouth and placing it on the side of your plate, all the time maintaining your happy face, through to spitting it out onto the floor.

The secret here is to completely ignore the offending item once discarded. You must NEVER be tempted to inspect said item too closely. This is a recipe for disaster. Be that a pun?

Despite all the above, it sure seems to serve them well. Oh, and gallons and gallons and gallons of water of course. I believe this is the real secret.

While writing this I just caught, out the side of my ear, a bit of a news story wot sounded suspiciously like there's been a bit of bother with some bed linen? What’s that all about then? Hardly sounds like news making stuff to me. I can only guess there’s nothing else to report, wot with the wedding being over an’ all. I’ll have to catch the news at nine and get the full SP.

Quote; Rita Rudner.

“Most turkeys taste better the day after; my mother's tasted better the day before.”