ALL DAY BREAKFAST CEREAL
Hello. After a brief hiatus for 'reasons', we're back with our most delicious offering yet! As long as in your dictionary, 'delicious' has - due to an appalling printing error - been mistakenly aligned with the definition for the word 'emetic'. Anyway, on with the show - and by criminy what a show it is.
This week, we're tackling the meal that is arguably the most important breakfast of the day: breakfast. Like most people who aren't my daughter who inexplicably decided to have just a tin of cold beans for breakfast the other day, you probably fall into one of 3 categories:
1. Toast (inc. honorary toast-alikes, such as croissants/crumpets)
2. Cereal
3. Cooked breakfast - beans, egg, sausage, bacon. The full fried monty.
And for the record, the correct answer is of course 1. Cereal is, by definition, rubbish. It's the leftover chaff, gravel and mouse droppings that they remove from wheat and stuff before making it into bread, which in turn can be made into delicious toast. So literally offcasts, which for children are then coated in sugar to make them passable, or for adults are left denuded for you to coat yourself in sugar or add strawberries or honey or other stuff to to make whatever nugget of crud you've selected taste of anything other than a farmer's boot scrapings. "Ah, but what about porridge?" I hear you ask? To which I would reply, "Ah, but what about fuck off?". Porridge is the worst of the lot - bland, flavourless slop that welds itself to any vessel that has the misfortune to contain it. If food were emotions, porridge would be indifference - except it wouldn't, because it can't be arsed. Stupid porridge.
Option 3 isn't bad now and again, but long term one of these a day means there won't be a long term because you'll probably have a heart attack after too many cholesterol-sodden wake-ups. So realistically it's 1 or 2, and even more realistically it's 1 because - as outlined above - 2 is shit.
But say you're some sort of deranged madman who one day fancies a change from toast? Well today, we're trying to give you the best of option 3 in the convenience of option 2 to fit in with 'today's busy lifestyles'. Because if they can sell Weetabix in a bottle, I'm pretty sure I can sell this. And here 'this' is!
This week's contestants are:
Frazzles
Haribo fried eggs
Mushroom chewy gums
Beans & mini sausages
Coco pops
Milk
Why use sweetie versions rather than the real thing? Well size, for one - have you ever tried to balance a wet fried egg on a cereal spoon? The other being the sweetness helps make it a bit more like 'real' cereal, only without the need to eat bits of something akin to wood chippings.
2. Try not to eat the bowl.
Well if this week's recipe has taught me one thing, it's to have a lot more respect for zombies. Because eating a cold, wet, milk-sodden mini sausage is probably about as close to gnawing on a cadaver as I'm going to get, and by every god you can recall (and some you probably can't) it's awful. Not just 'Ha ha!' comedy effect awful, but genuinely, puke-inducingly, made a bit of a dash to the loo but somehow kept it down awful.
I thought I'd have trouble with the Frazzles, because - mmm! - who doesn't like salty, vaguely beef-ish tasting milk? But no, it was that dead flesh texture what won it, and what it won was me throwing in the towel after a few spoonfuls. In fact, I'd have much rather thrown an actual towel in the bowl and eaten that.
By comparison the rest was fine - just chewy and unusual, but not inedibly so. In fact, the Frazzles remained remarkably sturdy and aside from the hint of dairy tasted much like eating a bag of crisps in the rain, in that they were just a bit damper than you'd probably like. Heck, even the beans were alright.
But as I'm sure Heston Blumenthal is always saying when knocking up a new, experimental recipe, "Gaaaaaaaargh!!!! What the hell is this toxic mess - it's awful! Get it flushed down the shitter!"
Which I duly did.
So what have we learned? Well, it's all down to presentation. This meal, in a traditional bowl served in a traditional way is horrendous. Served in a toilet bowl, with an extra administration charge for cutting out the 'middleman' (or more accurately, the middleman's digestive system), is a much more preferable AND time-convenient option for the businessperson in a hurry. And given people serve food on all manner of tiles, bits of wood and things that look like the Blue Peter advent crown bent round a housebrick these days, it's probably not as unlikely a sell as you may think.
But jaysus, those corpse-finger sausages. I'm still having nightmares.
Next week: WELLINGTONS
This week, we're tackling the meal that is arguably the most important breakfast of the day: breakfast. Like most people who aren't my daughter who inexplicably decided to have just a tin of cold beans for breakfast the other day, you probably fall into one of 3 categories:
1. Toast (inc. honorary toast-alikes, such as croissants/crumpets)
2. Cereal
3. Cooked breakfast - beans, egg, sausage, bacon. The full fried monty.
And for the record, the correct answer is of course 1. Cereal is, by definition, rubbish. It's the leftover chaff, gravel and mouse droppings that they remove from wheat and stuff before making it into bread, which in turn can be made into delicious toast. So literally offcasts, which for children are then coated in sugar to make them passable, or for adults are left denuded for you to coat yourself in sugar or add strawberries or honey or other stuff to to make whatever nugget of crud you've selected taste of anything other than a farmer's boot scrapings. "Ah, but what about porridge?" I hear you ask? To which I would reply, "Ah, but what about fuck off?". Porridge is the worst of the lot - bland, flavourless slop that welds itself to any vessel that has the misfortune to contain it. If food were emotions, porridge would be indifference - except it wouldn't, because it can't be arsed. Stupid porridge.
Option 3 isn't bad now and again, but long term one of these a day means there won't be a long term because you'll probably have a heart attack after too many cholesterol-sodden wake-ups. So realistically it's 1 or 2, and even more realistically it's 1 because - as outlined above - 2 is shit.
But say you're some sort of deranged madman who one day fancies a change from toast? Well today, we're trying to give you the best of option 3 in the convenience of option 2 to fit in with 'today's busy lifestyles'. Because if they can sell Weetabix in a bottle, I'm pretty sure I can sell this. And here 'this' is!
 |
| In hindsight I should have used a smaller bowl. But then again in hindsight this should be a blog about eating chocolate bars while test-driving Ferraris. |
Ingredients:
Frazzles
Haribo fried eggs
Mushroom chewy gums
Beans & mini sausages
Coco pops
Milk
Why use sweetie versions rather than the real thing? Well size, for one - have you ever tried to balance a wet fried egg on a cereal spoon? The other being the sweetness helps make it a bit more like 'real' cereal, only without the need to eat bits of something akin to wood chippings.
 |
| It looks almost OK here. Bright, colourful and cheery! |
Cooking instructions:
1. Put everything in a bowl.2. Try not to eat the bowl.
The results:
 |
| Seconds after this, the bean juice and coco pops combined to make the milk go flesh coloured. Bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. |
Well if this week's recipe has taught me one thing, it's to have a lot more respect for zombies. Because eating a cold, wet, milk-sodden mini sausage is probably about as close to gnawing on a cadaver as I'm going to get, and by every god you can recall (and some you probably can't) it's awful. Not just 'Ha ha!' comedy effect awful, but genuinely, puke-inducingly, made a bit of a dash to the loo but somehow kept it down awful.
I thought I'd have trouble with the Frazzles, because - mmm! - who doesn't like salty, vaguely beef-ish tasting milk? But no, it was that dead flesh texture what won it, and what it won was me throwing in the towel after a few spoonfuls. In fact, I'd have much rather thrown an actual towel in the bowl and eaten that.
 |
| Down the hatch. Very nearly followed by up the hatch, as it turned out. |
By comparison the rest was fine - just chewy and unusual, but not inedibly so. In fact, the Frazzles remained remarkably sturdy and aside from the hint of dairy tasted much like eating a bag of crisps in the rain, in that they were just a bit damper than you'd probably like. Heck, even the beans were alright.
But as I'm sure Heston Blumenthal is always saying when knocking up a new, experimental recipe, "Gaaaaaaaargh!!!! What the hell is this toxic mess - it's awful! Get it flushed down the shitter!"
Which I duly did.
 |
| Turns out Frazzles float really well. Who knew? So if you're on a sinking cross-channel ferry, now you know what to get out of the vending machine. Assuming it doesn't also sell dinghies, which are probably still your best bet. |
So what have we learned? Well, it's all down to presentation. This meal, in a traditional bowl served in a traditional way is horrendous. Served in a toilet bowl, with an extra administration charge for cutting out the 'middleman' (or more accurately, the middleman's digestive system), is a much more preferable AND time-convenient option for the businessperson in a hurry. And given people serve food on all manner of tiles, bits of wood and things that look like the Blue Peter advent crown bent round a housebrick these days, it's probably not as unlikely a sell as you may think.
But jaysus, those corpse-finger sausages. I'm still having nightmares.
Next week: WELLINGTONS
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