The Way to a Man’s Heart…
Apparently, according to my little book of annoyingly folksy cliches, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. It’s only half-right, I think. Surely the way to anyone’s heart is through their stomach – or at least, it should be.
Mrs. Toad and I are both totally disasters, in terms of domesticity, but we both love to cook. In fact, I remember one of the best things my Mum ever did for me and my little brother as kids, and that was make damn sure we knew how to cook before we left the house. If you want to pull – either sex – cook for them. It’ll tell you a lot. As my Mum (she’s a smutty old bag, really she is) always said: cooking and eating are very important because they involve all the senses, and the only other thing which really does that is sex, so if someone can’t enjoy one then what are the odds that they’re going to be any good at the other?
It’s such a great pulling tool, it really is, if I could recommend any young man or woman learn any one skill (apart from becoming a black belt in oral sex of course) then it would be excellent culinary skills. Particularly if you can make it seem effortless and do not turn into the gastronomic version of a wine snob. In fact, best just not use the word gastronomy at all, really, it’s probably a step too far for any right-thinking person.
In a less vulgar sense, of course, it’s a good test of personality. Anyone who picks their way through things and won’t eat this and won’t eat that is surely not worth bothering with. I am not talking about shunning people with potentially fatal food allergies (but real ones, not imagined ones, please) but people who are picky eaters are to be avoided. Why, let’s face it, would you fucking bother.
As for anyone who ruins meals by obsessively watches their weight, well, we don’t even need to discuss that, do we. Flush them down the toilet with the semi-digested remains of their last meal. Obsessive gym bunnies (male and female), manorexics (what?) or anyone so obsessed with their appearance that they don’t know how to just fucking relax and indulge a bit… well, fuck ‘em, frankly. Or, more literally, don’t.
And as for people who have their steaks or their tuna cooked any more than medium rare (and even that’s going a bit far)…
The Divine Comedy – Seafood Song
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James Yorkston – Midnight Feast
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and to those fuckers who say that their don’t have enough time to cook when they get home from work….get off your fat arse and turn the TV off.
takes only 40 mins to cook something like Puy lentils, Warm potato salad and a tuna steak…serve with a nice glass of Pinot Noir.
if you’re a veggie substitute the Tuna with Halloumi….lovely
About 10 years ago, around the time in my life I started thinking about ‘issues’ and developing my beliefs, my father, declared at the dinner table,
“I sometimes find eating a chore.”
It was then I concluded that I didn’t like him.
Actually, ignorance is a big problem. A colleague of mine once said that he genuinely wouldn’t know how to feed a family of four as cheaply as he could at McDonald’s. I was aghast, but if you’ve not been taught then it’s mean to blame him exactly.
Teach your kids, people, they’ll thank you in the end.
Gav, that really made me laugh, until I realised what a sad and poignant tale it was.
Then I thought ‘fuck it’ and sniggered to myself again.
What brought all this on?
Have you had something nice for lunch?..
Oh, really?
A bond between father and son imploded into the dark depths of an adolescent’s young heart creating a crater of futility and a descent into a world of hollow worthlessness & social exclusion.
But no, you laugh if you want, Matthew.
Gav….that Morning Bride album is really good.
i do blame people if they can;t cook….it’s not hard at all….sort it out….mske an effort…people who buy roast tatties from M&S should be shot…..
Yeah, as long as his Highness gets a giggle, all is well.
I’ll just sit here and continue my self-harming.
You useless ungrateful bastard!!! That food and sex correlation was mine. It’s the only clever thing I ever said.
Humph!
Ohh, paranoia hit: tongue in cheek comments above, of course. I actually consider myself a well rounded, happy individual.
Do all sons hate their fathers? And all love their mothers? That’s been my general observation.
The R.C.C.: grrreat! Thanks for letting me know.
Also when I said it was really vulgar. It was late and I’d had a few…
Ben – Erm, I mentioned how clever it was to Mum, and she said it was her who had told you, which is where you got it from. I didn’t exactly have the knowledge to disagree.
The bit about the menstrual cycle taking place in Kansas was the only clever thing you ever said.
Gav, my Dad’s quite nice actually. Mum’s a bit of a bitch though. Guess which one I take after.
oh…i nearly asked which one is a cunt….then i thought…not Tom that is very rude!!! so i didn’t
shite i just have
That thieving bitch!!!! I used it to pull a bird after I’d cooked dinner for 15 people! How bloody dare the ratty old tart?
Billions of blue blistering barnacles!!!
She can have credit if she can name the friend she made it up with, what type of alcohol fueled it, what desert was served and why and whose fucking knickers it pried open!!!
Children, this is your mother speaking. I didn’t need to get in anyone’s knickers and I was just giving you a bit of motherly advice before you fled the nest.
Blistering barnacles indeed and what would your mother say about your language young Rampant Chutney Consumerism?
Is anyone else a bit weirded out?
I can’t wait for the weather to warm up properly so I can get outside and grill, grill, grill. Steaks, corn on the cob, asparagus, big fat portabella mushrooms, fresh sun-warmed tomatoes straight off the vine. Pinot Noir, yes, and gorgeous bottles of Leffe Blonde, with Alela Diane melting out of the speakers while the sun goes down. Another four weeks should do it.
Oh Chutters. You are sooo dead.
That really is my Mum too. You’re fucked, Chutters.
Today I managed to stumble across a user review of a McDonald’s in Glasgow. (I was looking for a place to go for lunch tomorrow, and if you search for ‘restaurant’ on google maps, for some reason it also lists McDonalds. I think they use the term ‘restaurant quite loosely.)
This guy explains in detail how he went to a McDonalds, was short changed out of a fiver, was verbally insulted by the staff, asked to move seats twice (at which point he took his meal outside), and found that his burger was undercooked. So what did he do?
That’s right – he went to a different McDonalds.
I really think its just a lack of imagination with some people. Or lack of effort. Or probably both.
Mother of Toad and Toadlets – it was only a ‘cunting’ thought…thats all….i didn’t really ask the question….it was a mind bubble so to speak.
Bart – i’m completely weirded out….man
Woah.
Bogus.
Is this what happens when I leave you lot alone?! Can’t turn my back for five minutes!
Oh hang on, I don’t need to speak like that, Matthew’s mum is really actually here!
Chutters, you’re dead, dude.
…people who buy roast tatties from M&S should be shot…..
Thought we weren’t launching into gastro snobbery! Get your gun Tom, M&S Roasters are tidy, and i never have time or inclination to cook, so shoot me for that too. But i can, i just keep my talents for special occasions…
time? now that is interesting concept……the roasters take nearly as long to cook as you could do them yourself…..money to burn.
Shonagh makes the second best scrambled eggs in Leith. Official!
Ready-made roasties are crap though. As are those pots of ready-made mashed potato for you to microwave.
I mean, christ, even Smash took a little bit of common sense to put together!
When I see someone picking up a pot of ready-made mashed potato I start looking round to make sure their volunteer care worker isn’t too far away.
Ye, but with all of that spare time saved from the peeling and chopping, i could have watched an episode of deal or no deal…
the best Dylan, the Observer said so..
The Observer reviewed your scrambled eggs?
Best Breakfasts in Scotland! It was in this weekends food awards!
Well done!
Oh this has given me a laugh today.
i like to cook. i like to eat good food. but there are days when i seriously cant be arsed thinking about preparing food and giving any attention to it. In times like these i will throw something in the oven without any shame i may point out. I agree with everyone that more people should eat better and take the time to cook decent meals but there is also a lot of snobbery present.
pint dave?
Well done indeed!, Shonagh!
Garland’s in Cardiff is nice, too.
…..if i can’t be arsed to cook…then i normally make myself mussels, Belgian style….cost about £4 and ready within 20 mins…..Rocking.
oh aye The Left bank does indeed do a great breakfast.
Get yourself along to the Loch Fyne restaurant along by me, Tom.
They sell the proper Belgian-style pans for cooking mussels.
Bit of garlic, butter, white wine and you’re rocking.
That’s brilliant, Shonagh, well done.
Chutters is right about mussels, too. Easiest posh and tasty dinner you can possibly make.
I’ve been a bit dodgy about mussels ever since I spent a fateful night in the Hyannis Hospital Emergency Room on Cape Cod. I was in rough shape, but there was this poor Austrian bugger in the next bed over who was literally out cold with white-blue skin, and the docs said it was bad mussels.
Well, considering that the matron Toad is present, I’m NOT SAYING A DAMN THING… nothing. I’ll not be accused of perversing the food/body connection here, oh no, not me!
(oh goddess, I’m having such a laugh at you lot!)
xoxoxo
Eating? Shellfish? Tart? Oh crap, what a disastrous combination.
Don’t worry, Tarticles, the first post my Mum ever read on this site was this one, so she can probably take it.
I also know that Emergency room C&B, though mine was a blood passing incident due to late night drinking excapades (you’ve brought it all back to me). Lovely place, tried to charge me for every x-ray going (would have cost more than the kidney!!!!). Made me pine for the NHS. Oh the japes….
That Hospital was a house of fucking (sorry Toad’s Mum, but no other word will do) horrors. They brought me in on a gurney and literally left me in the hallway for about 3 hours before moving me to a proper room. Then they released me with a pat on the back and I wound up passed out on the floor of their waiting room, so they trundled me into a wheelchair and whisked me back in again for another few hours in the hall.
We hates them forever!
Fucking hell. The Hyannis Hospital ER Survivors Support Group has spontaneously formed on a Toad post about food. The internet is a fucking surreal place at times.
Edibles what are for Wrong Uns :
Overcooked steak.
Frozen roast spuds. No really, these exist.
Tomato pasta sauce in jars. You could open a tin of value tomatoes, pinch of brown sugar and brown some onions and garlic for all of 50p a head but no, you had to have the E numbers, lactic acid and emulsifier as well as Lloyd Grossman’s grinning pus leering out from the side of the jar. Was it worth the extra £1.10?
A propos, celebrity chefs/celebrities etc who endorse products brewed in vats at the Heinz factory as their “own range” when they probably haven’t been within a mile of the lab where the slop was concocted. I excuse Paul Newman who gave the cash to charity. But I don’t recall Linda fucking McCartney giving the money to charity mind and Jamie Oliver is a fat tongued consumerist whore.
Adulterated cheese such as but not limited to : Cheese straws, cheese slices in individual plastic wrap, cheese in tubes and any cheese bought in the US except at Whole Foods (even there unpasteurised is ILLEGAL! VERBOTEN! because lets face it, the French would live so much longer than they do without that diet of unpasteurised cheese and red wine).
People who insist salami and smoked meat make you a dead cert for ass cancer. Last time I checked death had an 100% market penetration rate and your ass had a broom up it. Take your soy bacon and choke on it, you joyless motherfuckers.
People who don’t like “foreign food” or “spicy food” and pull a face if a curry or chinese meal is suggested for a work night out before moaning about the lack of decent “british food” in restaurants. the world does not revolve around the fact that your palate and imagination can’t cope with anything more challenging than extra brown sauce on your egg and chips.
Food packaged as “ripe” thats more expensive than loose fruit and the people that buy it insisting that they can’t tell whether fruit is ripe otherwise. The good news is, come the revolution, these fuckers will starve due to their inability to sniff and tap on a melon or squeeze a tomato. And I will laugh.
I don’t trust people who don’t like garlic or onions. Weird. Pleasant smelling, but weird.
I’ve been there too! You’d be surprised. It’s dead posh now.
Best cheap dinner. Anchovie, parsley and garlic pasta. Yum.
i’m i off the hook yet?
No. Mother of Toad is a retired English teacher.
oh well…..being kinda dyslexic English was never my favorite subject….love to her all the same.
i never want to go a cottage hospital ever again…….
Mrs Toad: this might tickle your fancy…
A while back when I was whoring myself out at a supermarket we all decided to actually see what went into all those “value” and “basics” ranges (what fun we had) and we got round to looking at the ingredients on the individually wrapped cheese slices.
Any guesses to the cheese content of said slices?
Oh yeah, baby; 6 percent cheese.
My christ, it’s no wonder they’re still fit to sell after 6 months on the shelves…
My brother and I once found packaged cheese which was so devoid of cheese that it had to be described as a ‘cheese-like substance’ on the packaging.
They call it “cheese food” in the States.
Is that like the term ‘juice drink’ whereby the second word entirely voids the meaning of the first, because the bastard things never seem to contain the slightest hint of fucking juice whatsoever.
I always thought cheese food was the crap they feed cheese to make it fatter. And juice drink, well that’s gotta be what every thirsty juice craves, and oh you could go on and on, but my head is aching and this has nothing to do with music and it’s all so wrong, wrong, wrong.
But, I will say that the best meal ever cooked is a nice fillet of fish, some tablespoons of butter, chopped garlic, dill weed and lemon under the fire and roasted potatoes on the bottom rack. Add a salad with simple oil and balsamic vinegar dressing and you’ve just eaten at my house tonight, unless you were my wife, who had five bites and fell asleep on the couch. Fucking capitalist whores!!! Stop working so fucking hard, make do with less and enjoy your fucking food, for the love of whatever god you wish for, just stop it! (and she’s not the capitalist whore, only the regular kind… it’s her fucking, blood draining bosses that should be flayed alive and fed to dogs that are the evil ones here).
ranting over, thank you for listening,
xoxo
Mother of Toad, you’re awesome!
Sounds like a religious exclamation.
Mother of Toad, that fella’s walking on the water!
I liked the gentle chiding of ‘young Rampant chuntey consumerism’.
It made me think about the tone Mrs Frank Zappa might have used when trying to stop young Moon Unit Zappa from smoking or not tidying his room.
I cannot believe this site has gone from music snobbery to cooking snobbery. dear me. I love cooking and eating but who gives a fuck about the people who don’t? Their loss. And if somebody likes a steak well done, well good for them I say.
T-Shirt!
I think that is why undertakers are considered amongst the very very short list of totally recession proof industries.
As is ASDA. Where you buy brooms.
But surely the extravagance of funerals, and hence the undertakers’ profits, vary with the amount of cash those survived by the deceased have available.
In good times you can afford to send granny off in a gilded coach drawn by a team of black stallions, and have a 21-gun salute over the grave.
In leaner times, it can be more a case of “stick her in a binbag in the back of the Mondeo a bit quick so we can get to the pub!”
Some tablespoons of butter?! Brilliant. Sounds like me making toast.
Can i be a different sort of miserable shit and say something about whether you should be eating tuna? There are a few very good books out there about overfishing and consequences about to happen.
That aside, the idea that you can eat more cheaply with ready meals and take outs is such utter shash – not only is real good proper food so much better it’s also almost always much cheaper. One of my favourite things at the moment, a good springtime meal, is pasta with purple sprouting brocolli, anchovies, chilli and garlic and maybe some parmesan. Gorgeous, easy and cheap as anything.
Salmon fish fingers make me weep.
They are creating GM salmon that are the size of an alsatian in Norway. frequently deformed apparently, like Blinky the irradiated fish in the Simpsons.