It wasn't pretty. I can't give you the whole thing at once - you'll have to spend the rest of the day lying down with a 2 pint bottle of smelling salts and packet of biscuits if you'll have any hope of recovery - but let me prepare you by offering you the original recipe card from which said stuffed haddock was recreated:
Yes, it can get worse. You wait till you see the recipe I played a joker on. It asked for a pound of lamb's liver and a pound of pork liver, and that was without the other ingredients.
19 comments:
You know, I was going to do precisely this project but with a stack of 1970s weight watchers cards I found in a flea market. Including one for "Hawaiian Hot Dog Pie".
You may have spurred me into action.
I can't tell what it's stuffed with, I await the next post with considerable interest. The fish itself looks a bit dry at the end.
But... but... why are you doing this very strange thing?
And... how the hell do you stuff a skinless soft piece of white fish without the whole thing falling apart? And is there any room for stuffitude in the first place?
I am confused. Even moreso by what does it want to be stuffed with?
well this should be good, can't wait for the review...
Please keep going with this and get it published. It is all so funny. I don't need smelling salts but I do need a bucket.
That haddock doesn't look so much stuffed as riding upon a sea of various livers.
Kidneys. Tiny little deflated kidneys, possibly flattened by the sheer weight of the responsibility of holding up the stuffed fish. Actually the fish doesn't look stuffed, it looks like it has been placed on top of the coarsely chopped remains of one of Sweeney Todd's victims.
Also, I note it takes two quite large glasses of wine to face this meal. I hope you provided the necessities to the pathologist.
Aargh, butterbeans. I have an awful childhood memory of being forced to eat a whole portion of these evil little fellows - I was 5at the time and never dared face a school dinner again until sixth form. I don't think I could face butterbeans again now, even with those several strong drinks so helpfully prescribed.
Oh. I've just noticed you did 'A nice thing'. Whilst I do not really understand such activity, I am now very cross that I have felt compelled to 'Google' the name 'Jason McCann' at a cost of 2.45GBP on my shitty mobile fucking phone.
Thanks is what I mean.
Come ON, Monkey, stop wrapping us in cotton wool, we can take it. SHOW US THE FISH. I, for one, have lived through a school canteen in France where you pushed your tray along the little shelf to be greeted by the sight of 500 giant pink TONGUES poking up at you. There was no alternative. Or, in my possibly flawed memory, accompaniment. Brrrr.
Where is the review? I do hope that the Pathologist and you aren't food poisoned or something.
All I will say is that when I was child, we fed coley and pig's liver to the cat.
I did not do that twice - why did it do it to me?
I did not do that twice - why did it do it to me?
ooh, it did it again. Is the devil in my Mac?
No, it is not the devil MM, for Macs are blessed by God (non-denominational) and have a special forcefield around them. It is not you, I think it is blogger; for other loyal readers have had the same problem.
Scrumpot: The review is coming but the pathologist is very, very busy reading back issues of the New Yorker and recovering from 4 nights in London and the kosher option on Air Canada.
Jaywalker: at least you HAD food at your school.
Tired: yeah yeah, whatever.
As for the rest of you: Buggles, super idea: do you work for (for e.g.) Penguin or Faber and can you offer me a "deal"? Z, moistness R us. Anna, make the fucking hot dog collation right now or else. Jonathan, they're spongy in the middle.
Squirrel: because I can.
does the pathologist cook?
Post a Comment