Breadman of Xaghra…
While we were waiting at this bus stop in Xaghra…
We saw the breadman out on his daily delivery.
He drives his van around the town and beeps at every street corner .
The people come out of their houses with bags and buy fresh bread and cakes from him.
Some people didn’t come out, they had left empty bags hanging on a nail outside their front doors and the Breadman filled it up with bread for them to bring inside later.
Willie the Chocolate guy…
This guy Willie the Chocolate guy, have you ever seen him?
He is a deeply annoying human being. I hate the way they continue filming him when he has chocolate all over his face after one of his fancy chocolate tasting evenings. It just looks foul. Channel 4 obviously think his passion for chocolate surpasses any need for personal hygiene.
Despite this, I still find myself watching him when he is on TV, to be annoyed is to be entertained.
Since watching his Documentary/Series thingy on chocolate making, I have been buying good quality chocolate, sometimes with 70% cacao in it. I am turning into a bit of a chocolate snob…
Anyway, I bought this bar today…
and let me tell you, it is very very satisfying!
Go out and buy it and taste it and tell me what you think…
Man Eats Sandwich
I was walking through London Bridge Station there with a couple of pints in me and there was a fella eating his sandwich and I looked at him and jesus he was so funny. He was really offended when I laughed at him, there he was sitting on the bench stuffing a sandwich into his face quicker than his teeth could process it.
Why that made me laugh, Jesus I dunno… It’s just that that sandwich didn’t have a chance! It kinda made me nervous. It looked so helpless, like a lamb to the slaughter it was, and it being shoved into his mouth helpless… Feckin hell I am glad I am not a sandwich!
Gimme the God Damn Peppercorns wilya!
I went up to the Turkish shop up the road there the other day. It’s like a proper mini-supermarket for those of you who don’t know it. Look, here is a photo of it for ya altogether:..
Anyway, I went in and scanned the aisles for some peppercorns.
I gave up in the search and decided to ask the fella with the white coat. It’s unlike me to ask, I usually circle round and round til I find what I need and it’s only when I have thoroughly exhausted this search do I approach the men in white coats. Anyway, on this occasion I musta waltzed around the aisles enough to make me dizzy. So I say to yer man “excuse me, do ye have any peppercorns?”
Yer man opens his mouth and goes “ah!” as he strides longleggedly round the corner, I follow him and he leads me to the popcorn.
“Eh, that’s popcorn, I asked for peppercorns?”
“Aaaaaah” he says with more passion this time and strides off out the front door of the shop…
“Where are you taking me now?” I asked him. “I don’t think ye’d be keeping the peppercorns outside”
He leads me to the row of fresh peppers and looks at me as if he has given birth to them or something…
“Eh YEAH… they are peppers… I asked you for peppercorns…”
Now he slows down and kinda gives me a puzzling look.
I soften and explain that I am looking for the other half of the salt&pepper pair, but in it’s whole form, before you do the grindy grindy thing”
“You want salt?”
“No, I want it’s long lost brother – Pepper”
“Oh Ok, yes, we don’t have/that will be delivered on Friday”
“I don’t think it’ll be delivered on Friday, I think you don’t understand me and you’re brushing me under the It-will-be-delivered-on-Friday rug” I said to a misunderstanding face.
So I leave him to his confusion and approach another white coat.
“Excuse me, do you speak English?”
“Yes, yes!” he says in broken English, but I make a mental note to give him a chance before I bollick him.
Do you have any peppercorns?…
The Lovers and what they ate…
…together they ate a Margherita Pizza-
….but they longed for a Pita with a piece of Calvita.
My last egg…
I had the most disastrous morning this morning I’m not coddin’ ya. Everything started off ok in so far as my alarm went off & I got out of bed & into the shower. It all went pear shaped after that. I discovered I had only an egg to my name.
Look into my fridge, no prizes for guessing which shelf is mine…
I didn’t have any money. But I thought If I bought a loaf of bread I could bring an egg sandwich into work with me. And a loaf a bread wouldn’t break the bank.
This was Good thinking…
I bolt down to the shop anyway to find it closed. Blast it! I figure it’ll open in ten minutes (7:00am) so I run back to my flat to make a cuppa cha n do stuff.
So before I go out to the shop again at 7:00am, I decide to use my time wisely & put the egg into a saucepan in preparation for this egg sandwich.
Being tied for time, I legged it to the shop again. Twas open, so I go in only to find that they’re out of bread. Blast it anyway – I grab a pack of pitta bread instead and make my way back to the flat. When I reach the front door & look for the keys I realise they are not with me. Now one might argue at this point that it’s not a problem and you’ll be thinking “ah shur, just ring the bell and the flatmates will come down and letchya in” – but those of you who know me & who have been to my flat know only too well that the door bell doesn’t work (even if it did, we wouldn’t answer it). We don’t answer the phone either. One time the fire alarm went off downstairs at about 4:00am in the morning and no one bothered to get out of bed to investigate.
So I thumped on the door anyway, full blasht. The flatmates were conked out in their beds two floors up… Zzzzzz
No answer. Didn’t have my phone on me either to ring Bob London & tell him to let me in. I was screwed and me last egg was on it’s last legs boiling away in the saucepan inside. I decided to fill my lungs with air and give a good shout inta the letterbox. I let out an almerciful yelp that resounded around the neighbourhood. I was in luck & was let in so I could tend to me darling egg. The poor unfortunate thing was sitting in steam when I rounded the corner.
After the egg was tended to, I ransack the place looking for my keys… no where to be found. I borrow my flat mates keys and run back to the shop to see if I left them in there. Low and behold they were on the counter. Race back to my flat.
At this stage, I was officially running late. I slit open the pitta bread only to find a mouldy piece of pitta looking out at me.
Feck!
Back to the shop again – visit numero four-o in the space of a half an hour – scandalised! Yer manno must a thought I had the hots for him. Anyway, I swap pitta’s with him & run back to the flat. May I just point out that I’m sweating like a paedo in a playground at this point.
I make my sambo & glance at the clock…
shock horror! Look at the time & I’ve to be at work at 8:00am and it’s a serious cycling distance from where I am standing!
Grab me helmet & me bike & cycle like Stephen Roche to work only to get there and realise that I forgot my egg sandwich!
Anyone for some carrot soup? Yera do!
I’m going to cook me some soup fit for a queen now…
Just got a bag a carrots from the co-op on Forest Hill Rd. Big long queue as usual but shur ’twas worth the wait cuz this bag a carrots was only 49p…
Yes indeedy, grand an’ cheap for the strugglin’ actor. I pop Stevie Wonder into the CD player to get me in the mood…
…and on I go to a spot of peeling. The peeler is grand an’ sharp and the skin eases off gently, aaaaaaah!
Here they are now, all peeled and all lined up and like lambs to the slaughter…
I chop like a madwoman for a further 5 minutes or so, til I have some lovely orange shapes in the saucepan…
Now next, you get some emmm… veggie stock cubes… I discover I’ve only one left, blast it anyway.
Yera it’ll be grand I’d say…
Pour the stock over the waiting carrots very gently. Everything in my kitchen is done with tender loving care…The carrots are just lapping it up, they’re squiggling around now in their Jacuzzi of stock…
Cover with a lid and let it do its thing.
“Superstition” comes on and my feet start to move involuntarily across the kitchen floor.
I start throwing unbelievable shapes, high jumps and moon walking n everything – I’m like Michael Jackson…
Back to the carrots though. It’s important not to get too carried away at this stage.
Very important things are going on inside those curved walls. Let it linger away. Don’t interfere with the process. All that dancing around can be tiresome enough and some time needs killing, so I chill and let Stevie sing to me. He tells me he has a problem in his life… Tell me all about it Stevie, I’m all ears and I’ll sing along with you when the chorus comes along…
I drift away until it’s time to do a bit of stabbing…
I love that part. It isn’t everyday you get to stab something. It’s liberating! Try it!
It’s almost time for the crushing device. Be careful not to burn yourself with the splatters coming off this thing.
Next comes the best bit… the tasting! Oh holy Mother of Mercy and Devine Jesus hold me back!
Now, I really hate to blow my own trumpet, but this here is something unworldly. It’s nectar of the Gods… It’s tantalising! It’s driving my taste buds bananas! Oh my God! Wow! Yes! …Yes! YES!
