Thanks GorillaMan and Teacake. A day trip to the vinyard near Cambridge, another to the distillery in Norfolk. Granted, I may not have known about East Anglian wine, but a coworker didn’t know where to get apples around here. After I picked my jaw off the floor, I told him about that top secret English green grocer, Tesco. Maybe, at least for Americans, they’re not really trying to find good food here.
That’s just too funny! Everyone I’ve known to use it thinks it means a piece of bread with a hole in the middle, where an egg is fried along with the bread. the trouble with this arrangement is that often the whites in the middle stay runny along with the yolk. Ick!
Amazing how things get mixed up on the way across the pond!
I’m not a big fan of sausage, but I love Yorkshire pudding, especially with roast beef drippings!
Now that brings back fond memories of yesteryear 
My brother and myself tootling along to Grammas who was allways baking something.
A big wedge of hot crusty bread smeared liberally with beef dripping and a light sprinkle of salt.
And by beef dripping I mean the stuff off the Sunday roast not that shit they sell in supermarkets which is laughingly described as beef dripping…
I don’t know if this still happens, but on Great Yarmouth market there used to be a whole row of fish and chip stalls, and they always fried their chips in beef dripping. Much better than vegetable oil.
Now there could be a proper row. Beef dripping or lard, for chips? It’s one of the things wrong with fish and chips in the south - they use vegetable oil. Wimps!
Re. eels, jellied and otherwise – this is long but offers one man’s view of the state of things – at least for young, impoverished, batchelor English thespians, in 1969:
The door clatters open and a man in a thick coat walks in, leans over the bar and helps himself to a beer. “I” [Marwood] nudges Withnail. The man takes an eel from his trousers which wriggles around violently [the eel, not anything else – Ed.]. He strikes its head on the bar and returns it to his trousers.
Marwood: Ask him if we can have one.
Withnail: What for?
Marwood: So that we can eat it! ‘We’re fed up with stew’.
They approach the bar.
Withnail: Excuse me, could we have an eel? You’ve got eels down your leg.
Jake [the poacher]: You leave them alone. Nothing down there of interest to you.
He removes a pheasant from under his coat.
Help us out Raymond. He’s been stuffed from arsehole to t’beak.
Marwood: Ask him if we can have one of those. Go on.
Withnail: Excuse me, we were wondering if we could purchase a pheasant off of you.
Jake: No.
Withnail: Come on old boy. What’s in your hump?
Jake: These pheasants are for his pot. There eels are for my pot. Now what makes you think I should give you something for your pot?
Withnail: What pot?
Marwood: Our cooking pot.
Jake: Ah, he know. Here, give us a wheeze on that fag.
He takes the cigarette from Withnail’s mouth and takes a draw. Marwood gives him the remains of a packet.
Jake: Might come up and see you lads in the week. Might bring you up a rabbit.
Withnail: We don’t want a rabbit, we want a pheasant.
Jake: Now listen here you young prat. Haven’t got no pheasants. Haven’t got no birds. No more than you have.
Withnail: Of course you have, you’re the poacher.
Jake [gesturing with the dead eel]: If I hear more words out of you I’ll come up and set one of these black pods on you.
Withnail: Don’t threaten me with a dead fish.
Jake: Half dead he might be, but I’ll come up after you and wake you up with a live one.
Withnail: Sod your pheasants. You’ll have to find us first.
Withnail and Marwood make to leave.
Jake [calling after them]: I know where you are. You’re at Crow Crag. I’ve been watching you. Especially you [to Withnail], prancing like a tit. You want working on, boy.
Withnail [outside]: If I see that sillage heap prowling around here I’ll take the bastard axe to him. [dramatically] Bastards, you’ll all suffer! I’m going to be a star!
[Withnail & Marwood head back to Crow Crag.]
Withnail: Vegetables again. I’ll be sprouting feelers soon.
Marwood: There’s black pudding in it.
Withnail: Black puddings are no good to us. I want something’s flesh!
[CUT: Next day; Withnail and Marwood walking in the hills outside Crow Crag.]
Withnail: I think I’ll call myself Donald Twain. [Espies Jake, toting a shotgun, at their front door.] Get down, get down! It’s him, what does he want?
Marwood: Better get down there and ask him.
Withnail: Don’t be ridiculous, he’s got a gun. Bastard’s psychotic, you’ve only got to look at him.
Withnail: This place has become impossible. Nothing to eat, freezing cold and now a madman on the prowl outside with eels.
Marwood: Alright, you’ve made your point. We pack up tomorrow and get out.
---- from the screenplay of Withnail & I [1986], wr. & dir. by Bruce Robinson
Oh, this is just rubbish. There’s also frying, pot-roasting, spit-roasting and dutch ovens
Don’t forget smoking! (Eels!!)
Huh? It’s not real popular now, but there’s no way we have a taboo about eating offal.
At various run of the mill US grocery stores (NJ & PA) I have seen and or bought;
Beef - liver, kidneys, heart, pancreas/thymus (sweetbreads), stomach (they seem to have removed it from the line but up 'till 2 or 3 years ago Campbell’s sold “Pepper Pot”, tripe stew, right next to the chicken noodle and tomato soups), and back in the 70’s you could still find brains
Pig - liver, kidneys
Chicken - liver, heart, gizzard
and I know my list isn’t complete!
Just move that “s” and you’ll be even more squiffy, lamb fries. :eek:
CMC fnord!
… I eat Kleenex for breakfast
And use soft hygienic Weetabix to dry my tears …
Speaking of, what’s the difference between Weetabix and American shredded wheat?
Weetabix is more…solid. Denser and textured less like steel wool. Also yummy.
I’ve had a bad meal in Paris, but not in six years in Scotland.
Shredded Wheat is sorta made from fibres of wheat. Weetabix is made from little flakes of wheat.
Everyone knows you should use horse fat.
When I was growing up my parents used to serve me fried scrapple for breakfast. It has not endeared me to offal at all, I assure you.
How rude. Picture if you will a typical medieval serf’s cottage. See any ovens of any description? If you put stuff in a pot with fluid and put it over a fire, what happens? It boils. What’s a pot-roast again? Well I’m not too sure, since it’s not a British expression, but I believe I’ve been told it involves putting some meat in a pan with some fluid… and… er… letting it boil. So if I (as medieval serf) don’t have any meat, what’s in the pan? Fluid and vegetables. Now what could be going to happen there? Dutch oven - isn’t that - a pot, with a lid? - and inside you put - some fluid and vegetables?
Now try and fry something. What do you put in the pan first? Would it be some fat? OK, where did it come from? Poor people in the middle ages did not have meat much if at all, and they had better things to do (with time and the fields) than start squeezing themselves some tasty vegetable oil. In fact that’s one of the reasons why eels are so popular - they’re one of the fattier freshwater fish.
And you’re going to spit-roast that carrot, are you?
Anyway, I never said that you couldn’t use the fire as well as the pot; roasting in the embers, smoking, whatever. Of the four cooking methods you mentioned, three use a pot over the fire. Which is what I said you would have. I never said that things were exclusively boiled. Just that as kitchens go, that of the medieval peasant was not luxurious. And since people were asking about what you might call the origins of British food, and what was available in that distant time, I didn’t really think that what I said was “rubbish”, thanks.
If you put stuff in a large lidded pot without fluid, and put it over a fire, it bakes or roasts.
With only a heat source underneath? In a pot, it’ll burn before it roasts. To get adequate heat to cook something through, the fire couldn’t be gentle enough for the bottom of the item. (I spent fourteen months living in a van with only two gas rings, no oven. Trust me.) Anyway, as I said, I wasn’t alleging that boiling was the only cooking method employed. You could bank up the embers round it, put some on top, then it would roast, but that’s not *over *a fire.
Not if you don’t let it get too hot. Braising is a very different thing to boiling.
A small pot over a gas ring is very different from a large (and thick-bottomed) pot over a fire, which can provide a constant internal temperature.
That is how we sometimes cook our meat. All you do is take a small joint of roasting beef, sear it in hot fat for a couple of minutes, put in a slow-cooker (crockpot), season, and then cook on “low” for six to eight hours. No liquid involved, and you end up with tender and tasty beef.
Don’t forget ‘burying it in coals’. And what do you call a shisk-kebab but spit-roasted carrot?