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Showing posts from October, 2013

The evolution of the fish finger sandwich

Regular readers will remember this post where I upgraded the fish finger sandwich with hand-sliced black olive bread. Well, it has evolved further. Out of necessity. 

I wouldn't go as far as to cite the 'necessity is the mother of invention' proverb. And I think I can be pretty sure that Plato did not have fish fingers on his mind, or his plate, when he, allegedly, used those words. 'Necessity is the impulse to scour the cupboards' would be more accurate.
But talking about 'invention', who invented the fish finger? And yes, it was Captain Birdseye! Well, almost. It was a Mr Scott, of Birds Eye, who developed the fish finger at their factory in Great Yarmouth. It was gifted to the world in 1955 at a Brighton sales conference.
The Americans, as is often the case, apparently beat us to it with their 'fish stick' in the 1920s. Fish stick? Not very inventive at all. 
I found these and other insightful details about the FF in a 2010 article in The Telegraph. …

Flat and flatter: cars and ducks

(Please don't worry - there's no direct relationship between the car and the duck!)
There's a flatness to grey, wet weather, don't you think? Everything might be exactly how it was yesterday, every building, every tree, even the colour of the grass, but when I look out of the window it feels pressed upon, weighted down. It's like the sound an old bruise might make. The smell of a damp towel.
And just when you think things can't get any flatter:

But I called a very nice man. A very, very nice man. In fact, in the handful of times I've had to use a breakdown service I've never met an un-nice man. It's not just that they solved the problems: changed a tyre, refilled an empty fuel tank, or took me home. It's the manner in which they handled all that. They're like magicians: they make anxiety disappear. But that is coming from a woman who generally doesn't look under the bonnet of her car; a woman who has been meaning to get out the owner's …

Dancing with the pig

A pig that lives in a vault. A pig that keeps eclectic company. A salty, savoury, gently pulled pig. A pig from Cardiff. A Potted Pig. And dance I did: metaphorically and literally.
An old school friend had recommended this Cardiff eatery although Google shows that it ranks pretty highly for a lot of people, including Jay Rayner, food critic at The Guardian, who chewed and drooled throughout his review after it opened in 2011.

I booked a table on-line and chose the offered option for the set two course lunch at three o'clock. Nice to have a late lunch: the R&R after a necessary shopping spree in the city with my sister. But the restaurant called the day before to say that their on-line booking system was playing up. They only served until two so could we come then instead? And I'm pleased I did. 

If you're a fan of cockles, you're going to love the next photo. If you're not... you really need to rethink your eating habits. I know that they're not the most phot…